The man listened attentively but all was still, and raising his knife he began to saw through the strands, when, rising, he shut the knife with a snap and exclaimed: "No, hang it all, I won't. It's too bad; and there's a woman aboard. Bad enough as it is." Then following the example of those who had gone before, he went softly aft, feeling his way along the bulwarks till his hand came in contact with the rope, and he, too, slid down into the boat. "Well, did you cut the great rope?" whispered a voice. "Yes, gov'nor, all right. But not deep," added the man to himself. "Quick then, quick then," whispered the former speaker, "undo this little rope and let the boat float away." The boat's painter was loosened--but not without rattling the iron ring through which it was run--dropped over the side with a splash, and just faintly grating against the vessel's side the boat glided away, appearing for a few moments in the faint glow cast from the stern windows, and then seeming to pass into a bank of utter darkness. "I no care what you say, Mass' Oakum, sah," said 'Pollo a few moments before; and his great black ears seemed to start forward like those of a hare, "I sure I hear de rattle ob a rope; and you see if dare isn't a boat under de side." He leaped softly up, and ran on deck, followed by Oakum. "Dere, I sure I right," whispered the black, pointing astern. "Boat full ob men." "I can't see nowt," growled Sam. "Let's go forward and ask the look-out if they heerd anything. Hear a boat touch the side, mates?" he said aloud. There was no answer. "The lubbers are asleep," he cried, angrily; and hurrying to where the men should have been, he found that they were missing, and ran to the hatchway. "Below there!" he shouted. "On deck here, some of yer!" All silent, and he lowered himself down to find a lantern burning, but not a soul there even in the bunks, the men's kits being also gone. "Deserted, by jingo!" cried Oakum, slapping his thigh, as he began to ascend the ladder. "Here, 'Pollo, run and call the skipper." "What's wrong?" cried Captain Studwick, from out of the darkness. "Not a blessed man, sir, left aboard;" and the captain brought his foot down with a savage stamp upon deck. STORY ONE, CHAPTER TEN. OFF AT LAST. The outcry brought the doctor, Mr Wilson, and John Studwick on deck the latter panting, and evidently in a terrible state of alarm. "Quick, father, the boat, save Bessy, don't mind me," he gasped. "There's nothing to fear, my boy," exclaimed the captain, catching the young man's arm. "Only the men have gone ashore--forsaken the ship. Now go below. Here, you Oakum, what do you mean, you scoundrel? Where's Mr Jones?" "Here, sir," said the mate, who had hurried from his berth. "What's wrong?" "Wrong?" exclaimed the captain, stamping about the deck in his rage. "Why, the men have forsaken the ship. What were you about?"