It proved a short tack. Hardly a quarter of an hour later, when the land had faded but a little way into the indistinct night, they came about again. This time they ran in so directly for the land that Pink grew nervous. He stood up, pipe in hand, looking back at the mate, then forward at the shore. The breeze fell away, but they drifted on through a mirror of shapes and shadows. The trees of the bank loomed before them, then, it seemed, around them. Still the _Merry Anne_ drifted on, her wheelsman turning every stray breath to advantage. She was in a cove now, though how wide it was or how far it extended the sailors could not tell, so strangely were the bluffs and the trees reflected in the water. Drifting, however, is lazy work, and Harper sat down to it and relighted his pipe, At length the schooner came lazily up into the wind and McGlory ordered the anchor overboard. Here was a chance to try to wake the Captain, and the chance was seized; but even the dank and rattle of the chain failed to interrupt the snoring in the cabin. “Linding,” said McGlory, “come back here.” Larsen and Harper looked at each other,--they had not told Linding,--then between them they woke him and sent him aft. Without a word the mate motioned the sailor to help him lower the boat over the stern. “He's goin' ashore,” whispered Harper. Ole nodded. “He's beckonin' for us--say, Ole, shall we go?” But the Swede started promptly aft. The habit of obedience is so strong in a well-dis-posed sailor that only great provocation will overthrow it. With but a moment's hesitation, Harper followed. “Climb down there,” said the mate; “and mind you're quiet about it.” Down they went; McGlory came after and took the rudder; and, propelled by two pairs of oars, the boat slipped away, crossed a patch of moonlight, and entered the mysterious region of shadows. “Way enough--easy now!” They literally could not distinguish the shore--it was all distorted, unnatural. They dragged the oars in the water and looked over their shoulders. Linding was in the bow with a long boat-hook ready in his hands. Then they found themselves floating quietly alongside a narrow landing pier, and it was necessary to tumble in the oars in a hurry. Linding checked the boat's headway, the others reached out and caught the planking with their hands; and McGlory stepped out. “Make her fast,” he said, “and come ashore.” They obeyed. “Now, boys,”--he seemed of a sudden to be making an attempt at good-nature,--“I want you to wait here for me. I 'll be back in five minutes.” And walking along a path that mounted the bluff, he left them standing there. For a few moments they were silent. Then Harper spoke up: “Look here fellows, I don't know how it strikes you, but I'm hanged if I like this way o' doin' business. What we'd better do is to pull right back an' wake the Cap'n.” “Meester McGlory, she haf geef us orders, ya-as?” “What's that got to do with it?”