We nibbled at this or that until time enough had been spent to make it appear as if we were having a happy evening of it, and then all hands set about clearing up the cuddy, after which I suggested that we turn in, leaving one on deck to stand watch, though why there was need for such precaution I could not have explained. “Who shall stand the first watch?” Sam asked. “I’ll take the first trick,” was my reply, whereupon both Sam and Abe declared that they had no desire for sleep just then. Therefore it was that all hands remained in the cockpit, straining their ears for the first sound of a paddle from the direction of the opposite shore, but hearing nothing throughout all the long hours of darkness. When day dawned we searched with our eyes for the punt. There were two or three small craft moving about, but none resembling the one we were so eager to see, and until the sun rose we remained silent and motionless gazing over the water, when Abraham said abruptly: “It would be foolish for us to shut our eyes to what we know must be the facts. Abel Grant would never have risked putting off from Wallabout bay in the daylight, an’ because of his not comin’ we know he has been made a prisoner.” No one replied to this. All of us had the same thought, but had not dared to put it in words. “I’m goin’ to hunt for him,” Abraham said slowly and deliberately, after a long time of silence. “No, no, not till night,” he added, seeing that Sam was about to make some objections. “I’m not quite such a fool as to put off before dark; but when the sun sets I shall start, forcin’ Jethro Dyker to lend me a skiff. Abel is our comrade, an’ we cannot stay here idle knowin’ he is in trouble.” “I shall go with you!” I cried, and Sam echoed my words, whereupon, much to my surprise, Seth Hartley asked: “Why not all go? You would be foolish to make a try at followin’ on his trail, for those who picked him up would serve you in the same way; but, now that the fleet is close up here, why wouldn’t it be possible, with a good wind, to sail past them in the night, an’ begin your search from some other part of the island?” It was a right bold plan, one smacking of great peril; but in the mood we then were danger was welcome, although we did not admit as much to each other as we stood staring across the waters in silence. CHAPTER XIII. NEWS OF ABEL. When Seth Hartley proposed that we set off in search of Abel Grant in the sloop, holding together as a company rather than sending out one or two in search of the missing man, the idea struck us very favorably, because at the moment, so great was our sorrow and so grave our forebodings, the very peril of the enterprise recommended it. As we sat there silent and thoughtful, however, each member of the little party seemingly desirous of viewing the matter in every possible light, it was much as if the entire scheme had changed in color.