Abraham had hardly more than ceased speaking before the sound of loud breathing told that he was asleep, and I stepped softly out on deck in order to let the drowsiness blow from my eyes. Save for the distant rumble of surf on the outer side of the island, the most profound silence reigned. Far away in the distance could be seen tiny points of light, which I took to be the Britishers’ lanterns, but, otherwise than such signs of life, we were apparently as much alone as if in an uninhabited world. The night breath from the ocean was invigorating, for the previous day had been exceedingly warm, and our little cabin was like unto a furnace. I drew in long draughts of the cool air as I speculated upon what Sam might be doing, and if he had traveled without interruption since leaving us, until having worked myself up to the belief that I had been frightened without cause--that our task of spying upon the enemy’s fleet was no more than a pleasure excursion. And then, when the sense of perfect security had banished all forebodings, there came to my ears a faint sound which caused me to spring to the rail in a listening attitude, every nerve in my body tingling. The wind had brought a noise as of oars in the distance, and during two or three moments I stood there undecided as to whether I might have been deceived, after which there could no longer be any question. A boat was coming toward us from the direction of the fleet, and on the instant all the fancied sense of security had vanished, leaving in its stead a vague terror which caused me to tremble violently. Could it be that Luther Stedman had already given information as to our being ardent Whigs, and the enemy was coming thus soon to take us into custody as spies? It did not seem reasonable that all this could have been done thus soon, and yet if such was not the case, why was a boat bearing down upon us? While one might have counted thirty I stood irresolute, asking myself questions that could not be answered, but the reply to which might come all too soon, and then I ran into the cuddy, shaking Abel Grant violently as I whispered: “The Britishers are comin’! Luther Stedman must have sent them! Turn out, for there’s no time to be lost!” Abel came from the bunk like a steel spring, wide awake, and asking in a puzzled tone: “What’s to be done that time is so precious?” “That’s what I don’t know; but we can’t allow ourselves to be taken here like rats in a trap!” I had spoken sufficiently loud to awaken Abraham, who leaped out of his bunk just as Abel Grant went on deck, and, without speaking, we two lads followed him. It was not needed that we strain our ears overly much, for now the thump of oars in the row-locks came over the water loud, distinct, and sounding in my ears like the knell of doom. Abel Grant remained silent, listening, until it seemed to me he would never speak, and, unable to control my patience longer, I plucked him by the shirt-sleeve, whispering: