"Yes," said a third, "and green-hide soup three times a week." "Seasoned with brick-dust and pig-weeds," said a fourth, "by way of red pepper and cabbages." "Well, never mind what they've had," said old Tom Jones, interposing, "one thing's sartain, they ha'n't had any steam, that's jist as clear as mud." "You're idle there, old Tom Pipes; we've had as much good wine as we could lay our sides to. But howsomever, if you've got any white-eye in that black betty that you're rousing out of your pea-jacket pocket, I don't much care if I take a drop." "Poor children!" said the boatswain, "they've been kept this whole week in a snug, warm _caliboose_, and they'll catch cold if they're out in the night air." So saying, he offered his junk-bottle of New England to Morton, who declined it, and it was then passed to his four fellow-prisoners, who took a long, deliberate, steady aim at the stars through it in succession. By this time the two whale-boats and yawls, that constituted the flotilla of the shore party, were hauled as close to the beach as the shoalness of the water would permit, and the embarkation commenced; Morton carrying the fair Isabella in his arms, and depositing her in the stern-sheets of the swiftest of the boats, in which he found ample store of boat-cloaks and pea-jackets to protect her from the night air and heavy dews. Her attendant, Transita, was about following her mistress, when Tom Jones, who had no suspicion that there were more than one "young gentleman" concerned in effecting the escape of his shipmates, or about taking passage in the ship, laid his huge hand upon her shoulder, exclaiming, "Halloa! shipmate, where are you bound to, if the wind stands?" "What are you about there, Jones?" shouted Morton from the boat, "she--he, I mean, is to go off with us. Take him through the surf." "Ay, ay, sir; come, Mr. She--he, just get upon my shoulders, if you please; come, bear a hand before it snows--there, stow yourself away in the starn-sheets--there, that's the time of day--shove her bows off, Sam, and jump aboard--so, pull round your larboard oars--now give way together." Their oars being all muffled, they glided, silently and swiftly, towards the offing, edging away a little to the south, or farther side of the bay, to avoid the possibility of observation from the shore. They had proceeded swiftly for some minutes, and had passed the point on which the battery stands without speaking a word, when the silence was broken by Morton,-- "Where is the ship, Jones? do you see any thing of her?" The boatswain desisted rowing, and, holding his head down as near the water as possible, looked long and anxiously to the western horizon. "I don't see her," said he, "unless that's her, here on our starboard bow." "No, that's the rock."