The speaker, who was lying beside him on the deck, then rolled over toward the hatchway; but when the sentry turned in his round, he remained perfectly still. This he repeated, slowly and cautiously; Talbot followed his example, until they reached what sailor’s term the combings of the main-hatch, i.e. the elevated pieces around it, to prevent the water from running into the hold. He there waited for some time until he saw the sentry loiter at the furthest end of his round, when he quickly threw himself down the hatch, and crept on one side out of sight. As soon as Talbot had done the same, he led the way among the casks and barrels. When they had proceeded a little distance, he whispered, “The master’s-mate of the hold, who is a fellow-townsman of mine, had this passage opened for me to-day. Had he refused, and he hesitated for a long time, that villain in the cabin would inevitably succeed in his plans.” “What plans?” eagerly asked Talbot. “I know not who you are, or whither you are leading me—explain.” “You will soon know me; but let it content you now that I lead you to save your mistress. But that I feared the interference of that ruffian, the steward, I would have gone alone.” “Lead on, then! lead quickly!” said Talbot, his fears strongly excited. They resumed their way, groping along in the dark, and taking every step with the greatest caution. In a short while they distinguished the faint light admitted from the deck above through the fore-hatch. As soon as they had gained this opening, Gonzalez, for it was he, taking the opportunity when the sentry was furthest off, and had his back toward him, sprung quickly up, and blowing out the light in a lantern which hung to an upright timber, immediately returned to Talbot’s side. As was anticipated, the sentry, supposing the light to have been extinguished by a flurry of wind, took the lantern down, and proceeded to the main-hatch, to relight the lamp. As he did so, they both, unperceived, succeeded in gaining first the gun and then the upper-deck. Then separating, each one quietly and undetected reached the quarter-deck, and again rejoining each other, they slipped through a port-hole to a narrow platform outside, called the main-chains, and there, in intense anxiety, concerted their future movements, for the most perilous part of their enterprise was yet before them. CHAPTER III. The convivial party in the ward-room had been broken up by a squall, and with the other sea-officers, the count had repaired to the quarter-deck. For a short time the wind blew with violence, and was succeeded by a heavy fall of rain. In less than an hour there was a perfect calm, and the sails flapped sluggishly against the masts as the ship moved with the undulations of a light ground-swell.