“Possibly,” replied Harvey; “but, if she isn’t, we’ll give the squire another day. It’s stiff wind for him to sail in. What worries me, is whether the crew are all right or not. They’ve been gone a week almost, and they’re way down ’round Stoneland somewhere.” “Oh, they are all right,” said Henry Burns. And yet, if Henry Burns could have seen the position of the good yacht _Surprise_, at that precise moment, he might not have thought she was exactly all right. For the yacht _Surprise_ was hung up on a sand-bar, some ten miles below Stoneland, among the islands; and the crew had already worked an hour, in vain attempts to get her off. There came a driving squall of wind and rain, presently, and the boys went inside. “The _Viking_ won’t be in to-night, I guess, after all,” said Harvey. Then, as it grew dark, they busied themselves till they were taken all by surprise by a knock at the door. There stood Ed Sanders, his clothes dripping. “We’re in,” he said. “The squire sent me up to tell you. He’s gone home. The _Viking’s_ fast at her mooring, and all right. Come out and you can see her lantern that I set at the foremast. She don’t need a light, safe in the harbour here, but I thought you might like to see it and know she is there.” “We’ll go down right away,” said Henry Burns. “Much obliged to you.” “No, you won’t,” cried George Warren. “You don’t stir out of this house to-night. You’re going to stay with us. The boat is all right.” They stepped to the door and looked out upon the bay. It was clearing, but it was not pleasant. Everything was soaked with the rain, and the wind was blowing. “What do you say, Jack?” “Oh, I think we might as well stay,” answered Harvey. So they stayed. And they slept soundly, too, with the night-breeze whistling past their window. But it is certain they would not have slept soundly, nor slept at all, if they had but known of a certain letter that young Harry Brackett had written and sent to Bellport, three days before, and of the significance it had to the man who received it. It was about six o’clock the next morning that Jack Harvey, still sleeping soundly, was rudely awakened. Henry Burns was shaking him violently. “Jack, wake up!” cried Henry Burns. “Wake up and get your clothes on. There’s something the matter. The _Viking’s_ gone. Yes, she’s really gone out of the harbour; for I’ve been clear down to the shore to see. It isn’t any joke. Hurry up. I’ll get the fellows out.” A few moments later, Henry Burns, followed by Harvey and the three Warren boys, was running for the shore. CHAPTER XX. FLEEING IN THE NIGHT