They talked of the prospects for an early beginning; of the storing of the vessel, which, so it seemed, was already under way, the chances for slipping out to sea with no one the wiser. And then they left the house and walked north on Water Street until they reached Pegg Run; and the girl pointed out to Anthony a trim little schooner, fit, and fresh with paint, her tall masts telling of a fine spread of sail, and her strong hull bending into the curving sweep of speed. The young man glowed at sight of the craft; she was so like the one he would have selected himself for the work ahead of him that it might well have been his will, acting through another, when she was fixed upon. "You like her?" asked the girl. "She's a fine, upstanding craft," said Anthony, "roomy, with plenty of space for a press of wind, and I have no doubt, sails well in most weathers. She'll ride like a duck; I know that buoyant look." "I'm glad," said mademoiselle. "I tried to please you." His eyes met hers, and he held them steadily. "You have pleased me in more than that," said Anthony. "One by one I have been storing the instances away in my mind; some day I shall tell you what they are." There was an open look in his eye that stopped the speech on her lips: a flush came into her face, and her own eyes were very bright as she turned her head, so that he might not see. The tackle from the schooner's foremast strained and whined through the blocks; some negroes, chanting monotonously, laid their weight against the capstan bars. "In two days," said the girl, "she will be ready." "In two days," said Anthony, "she will be gone." XXXIX It was in less than two days that the last keg and case was received on board and the last carpenter packed his kit and left the schooner; in the meantime Anthony made calculations as to the hands needed to man her and set about procuring them. Almost the first person he met, at a tavern frequented by sailors in Front Street, was Corkery, who had been mate in Rufus Stevens' Sons' ship _General Stark_. And in an instant Anthony had him at the far end of the bar, a mug of beer before each of them, and was explaining his errand--or as much of it as the occasion seemed to need. "A crew?" said Corkery; "four men, a cook, a mate? A short voyage and good pay? What ship?" "The schooner _Roebuck_," said Anthony. Corkery nodded. "I know her," he said. "Owned by Crousillat, and lately engaged in the trade with Havana." He took a draft of the beer. "About the mate, now: I'm looking for a ship myself, and this voyage might fit me well if you'd be inclined to have me." "The papers are waiting for your name," said Anthony, his eyes snapping, for he felt the value of the man. "And, now, the others."