And if those two had escaped it must be by having leaped overboard in the smoke and confusion--'twas certain they had not taken their boat, for it still lay along their deck, upside down, where they always kept it, as I had seen often when they were moored alongside the _Furie_. Now it had a shot in it from one of our guns, I did perceive, which was perhaps the reason it was not used--though their haste to get away was more like to be the cause. Yet, I pondered, if they had hastened away, where was then the treasure? The casket alone would almost, I should judge, sink a man who endeavoured to get ashore with it, though it was but a few yards to swim--how could it be, therefore, that they and their stolen prize had got away? The truth, I did conceive now, was that all, Alderly, diver, and treasure, were at the bottom of the river. But by this time the night was approaching, vastly different from the former one, it being calm and cloudless; and I was worn out with want of rest, and with the fighting and excitement. So I resolved I would take a night's repose, and then in the morning I would explore the island carefully--'twould not take long, being not a league in length nor half as broad, as I knew; above all, I would see if I could find the goods you wot of. As for the two pirates, I feared them not one atom; face to face, I deemed myself--a king's late officer--the match for any two dirty pirates that ever breathed. So I let go the _Etoyle's_ anchor and made her fast for the night, and then rowed me back to my galliot and prepared for my rest. CHAPTER XXI. THE VILLAIN'S DEN. 'Twas as I have writ, a night vastly different from the precedent one, beautifully calm in this little channel, or river, with the moon arising behind the wood that bordered its eastern bank, and with a cool breeze coming from the sea and rustling through the leaves. And as the moon rose above the treetops she flooded all the river with light, making a great shadow of the _Etoyle_ on the water, and also of the galliot.