Everything was quiet on board. I heard neither voice nor noises. Some of the merchandise was still lying upon the wharf, and therefore they could not have finished lading the vessel. But the men were no longer at work, for I was now near enough to have a view of both the gangway and the main hatch. Whither could they have gone? I moved silently forward, until I stood by the very end of the staging. I had now a full view of the hatchway, and a considerable portion of the main deck around it. I saw neither the blue jacket of the mate nor the greasy garments of the sailors. All the men must have gone away to some other part of the ship. I paused and listened. Indistinctly, I could hear the hum of voices coming from the forward part of the vessel. I knew they were the voices of the crew in conversation with each other. Just at that moment, I observed a man pass by the opening in the gangway. He was carrying a large vessel that steamed at the top. It contained coffee or some other hot viand. It was the evening meal for the people of the forecastle, and he who carried it was the cook. This accounted for the cessation of the work, and the absence of the sailors from "amidships." They were about going to supper. Such was my conjecture. Partly impelled by curiosity, but as much by a new idea that had entered my mind, I stepped upon the staging and glided cautiously aboard. I caught a glimpse of the sailors far off in the forward part of this ship--some seated upon the windlass, others squatted upon the deck itself, with their tin plates before them, and their jack-knives in their hands. Not one of them saw me--not one was looking in my direction: their eyes were too busy with the cook and his steaming copper. I glanced hastily around; there was no one in sight. The new idea to which I have referred became more fully developed. "Now or never!" whispered I to myself; and under the impulse, I stepped down upon the deck, and crouched forward to the foot of the main mast. I was now on the edge of the open hatchway; and it was into this I intended to go. There was no ladder, but the rope by which the goods had been lowered, still hung from the tackle, reaching down into the hold. I caught hold of this rope; and pulled on it, to find if it was securely fastened above. It proved to be so; and, grasping it firmly with both hands, I slid downward as gently as I could. It was a close shave that I did not break my neck--and as it was, I had a tumble at the bottom--but I soon got to my feet again; and, scrambling over some packages that were not yet stowed in their places, I crawled behind a huge butt, and there ensconced myself in darkness and silence. CHAPTER NINETEEN. HURRAH! WE ARE OFF!