_Artemis_, gliding out of Sherburne, had clapped on all sail--jib and topsail and mainsail bellying taut, her fore-and-aft mizzen a great wing of purpose and of splendor. For her the northwesterly was a following wind, not her best wind but good enough; her low-slung bowsprit leaned joyfully to the sparkle of harmless whitecaps, outward bound. Shawn's little sloop danced about, settling into the long starboard tack; it would intercept the course of _Artemis_--but not until the island was well below the horizon, and none to observe but the gulls that still dipped and wheeled above and around _Artemis_, careless angels in the sun. Shawn gave one order in one roared word: "Judah!" It must have all been arranged long beforehand. Ben at that moment was trying to understand a snapped order from Judah Marsh. Trim something or other--he hadn't quite heard or understood, and was undecided whether to obey as he had tried to do yesterday or to choose this time for hopeless rebellion. Startled by that thunder from the helm, he turned his head to glance at Shawn--and was face down on the deck, his hands wrenched behind him and bound fast at the wrists. His threshing legs were secured at knees and ankles. The creature Dummy was doing most of this, as Ben knew from the moaning slobber at his ear. He was tied then at the foot of the mast, by back and ankles, legs bent under him so that he could not lift his knees, a rag jammed in his mouth, a tarpaulin flung over him up to the eyes. He struggled a while, not in hope, merely in refusal to surrender, and dislodged the tarp. Judah Marsh noticed this, and fastened two corners of the canvas behind the mast. Ben could do nothing then but go limp, trying to lessen the torture of bent legs and keep the edge of the tarpaulin from slipping against his eyelids. He faced the starboard rail. He could glimpse _Artemis_ from time to time as the sloop rolled. She grew larger through the morning. He saw the sloop's dory readied to go overside, long before _Artemis_ was in hailing distance, the life aboard her only a motion of midgets. Dummy, swift and excited as an ape, tossed into the dory a broad sheet of canvas. Judah Marsh and dry little Joey Mills climbed into the dory and disappeared. They would be a bundle under a rag; Ben ceased to wonder.... "Ahoy the _Artemis_!" "Hoy!" The answer came back large and brazen over the mild water, Jenks with his megaphone no midget now but recognizable, massive at the rail and calm. "I'm bearing a message from Mr. John Kenny of Roxbury." Ben tried to yell. Nothing penetrated the gag--a strangled gurgling that would not be audible ten feet away. He gave it up, hearing a part of Jenks' answer: "--'bliged to you. Let me have it." "A sealed message, sir--must be delivered to you safe hand, says he, no other way. Will you heave to, sir? I'll send me boat and delay you as little as I may."