On the following morning Captain Corbet went ashore at Chatham, and began a search after the sails. The search took up some time, but at length he succeeded in finding what he wanted. He found some sails and rigging that had been taken from a condemned ship, and were held for sale. They had not been considered good enough for a ship’s outfit, and had not only been torn and rent by storms, but also, from having been kept in a damp warehouse, they were somewhat mildewed. Still they served Captain Corbet’s purpose as well as brand new ones could have done, and, in fact, even better, for their damaged condition enabled him to obtain them at a price which was commensurate with his means. It took some time to get these all stowed away properly in the Antelope; but at length the work was satisfactorily accomplished, and Captain Corbet emerged from the hold, and ascended upon deck, with a smile of serene satisfaction, and the peaceful consciousness that this had been a well-spent, day. Thus, with this smile of serenity and this tranquil breast did our good Captain Corbet emerge from the hold and ascend to the deck of the Antelope. Scarcely, however, had he set foot thereon, scarcely had he taken one look around, than the smile on his face faded away utterly, and the tranquillity of his soul was abruptly ended. For there, full before him, seated calmly on the rail, with a piece of soft pine stick in one hand, and a keen jackknife in the other, with a cigar in his mouth, and a pleasant glance in his eye,--there sat the dreaded Ferguson, the very man whom Captain Corbet most feared to see, and whom he believed to be far away at the Magdalen Islands. Captain Corbet stood rooted to the spot. His jaw dropped. He was paralyzed. [Illustration: 0149] “You made a nice run,” said Ferguson. “A snug place this.” Captain Corbet did not answer. He was too confused. “I see you got your sails. I s’pose you didn’t have any trouble.” These words increased the dismay of Captain Corbet. He thought that this would be a profound secret. Ferguson now showed that he knew it. He must have found out about this at the Magdalen Islands. Whether he knew any more or not, was a troublesome problem. Captain Corbet did not see how he could possibly know any more, and yet Ferguson had such a knowing look, that he would not have been surprised at learning that he knew all. “I see you’ve got your sails,” said Ferguson, as Captain Corbet did not answer. “Yes,” said the other, in a melancholy tone, and with a resigned look. “It’s pretty difficult to get hold of things of that sort in these parts, and you were lucky enough to get them so easy. They’ll do for your purpose, I s’pose.” “O, yes,” said Captain Corbet, “they’ll do--well enough--considerin; just as well as if they was new.” “I s’pose you’re going right back from this?” “Right back?” repeated Captain Corbet. “Yes; you don’t intend to go dawdling about any longer--do you?” “O, no.”