Now then came a question of this strange-looking piece of card, with the numbers on which, by some wonderful process, I seemed to myself perfectly familiar,--nay, I felt that they were, from some hidden cause, recorded facts in my memory. All I could remember of the night before threw little light upon the matter, and I wondered on, striving to pierce the dull mist of uncertainty that enveloped all my thoughts; by this time, I had reached the bank of the river, and could perceive, about half a mile off, down the stream, a tall-masted smack getting ready for sea,--her blue-peter fluttered at the mast-head, and the pleasant "yo-ho!" of the sailors kept time with the capstan-bars as they heaved at the anchor. The wind was a nor'-wester, and beat with impatient gusts the loose canvas that hung ready to be shaken out, while the stream rushed rapidly along her sides. "Would I were to sail in you, wherever your voyage tended!" was my exclamation; and I sat down to watch the preparations, which the loud commands of the skipper seemed to hasten and press forward. So occupied was I with the stir and bustle on board the craft, where everything was done with a lightning speed, that I did not remark a boat's crew who sat leaning on their oars beside the wall of the stream; and it was only when an accidental sound of their voices struck me that I saw them. "That's a signal to come away, Ben!" said one of the men. "He 'll not wait no longer!" "And why should he lose a tide for any land-lugger of them all? It's not every day, besides, we get a nor'-wester like this!" "Well, what d'ye mean to do?" asked the former speaker. "Give him ten minutes more, Ben," cried another. "Let's have a chance of a dollar apiece, anyhow!" "There goes a shot!" said the man called Ben, as he pointed to the smack, from whose bow-port the smoke was lazily issuing. "I'll not stay here any longer; shove her away, lads!" CHAPTER XIX. ON BOARD THE 'CHRISTOBAL' Without further delay, the men prepared to obey the summons. The boat's chain was cast off, and, as she swung out from the wall, I could see a small standard at her stern, carrying a little white flag, which, as the breeze wafted towards mer showed the enigmatical number 438. I sprang to my legs and uttered a cry of surprise. "Well, what is it, master?" said Ben, looking up, and probably expecting to see me take a header into the muddy stream. "That's the number!" cried I, not knowing what I said. "That's the very number!" "Very true, master, so it is, but you ha'n't got the counterpart, I guess!" "Yes, but I have, though!" said I, producing the ticket from the pocket-book. "Why, darn me if that a'n't himself!" cried the men; and they sung out three hearty cheers at the discovery. "Were you there long, old fellow?" said Ben. "About half an hour," said I. "Tarnation! and why did ye keep us a-waitin'? didn't you see the tide was on the ebb, and that Christy was making signals every five minutes or so?"