hing
that he had experienced before that Barnaby could not divest himself of
the feeling that it was all a dream from which at any moment he might
awaken. As for the town and the Ordinary he had quitted such a short
time before, so different were they from this present experience, it
was as though they might have concerned another life than that which he
was then enjoying.

Meantime, the rowers bending to the oars, the boat drew slowly around
into the open water once more. As it did so the leader of the
expedition of a sudden called out in a loud, commanding voice, whereat
the black men instantly ceased rowing and lay on their oars, the boat
drifting onward into the night.

At the same moment of time our hero became aware of another boat coming
down the river towards where they lay. This other boat, approaching
thus strangely through the darkness, was full of men, some of them
armed; for even in the distance Barnaby could not but observe that the
light of the moon glimmered now and then as upon the barrels of muskets
or pistols. This threw him into a good deal of disquietude of mind, for
whether they or this boat were friends or enemies, or as to what was to
happen next, he was altogether in the dark.

Upon this point, however, he was not left very long in doubt, for the
oarsmen of the approaching boat continuing to row steadily onward till
they had come pretty close to Barnaby and his companions, a man who sat
in the stern suddenly stood up, and as they passed by shook a cane at
Barnaby's companion with a most threatening and angry gesture. At the
same moment, the moonlight shining full upon him, Barnaby could see him
as plain as daylight--a large, stout gentleman with a round red face,
and clad in a fine, laced coat of red cloth. In the stern of the boat
near by him was a box or chest about the bigness of a middle-sized
travelling-trunk, but covered all over with cakes of sand and dirt. In
the act of passing, the gentleman, still standing, pointed at this
chest with his cane--an elegant gold-headed staff--and roared out in a
loud voice: "Are you come after this, Abram Dowling? Then come and take
it." And thereat, as he sat down again, burst out a-laughing as though
what he had said was the wittiest jest conceivable.

Either because he respected the armed men in the other boat, or else
for some reason best known to himself, the Captain of our hero's
expedition did not immediately reply, but sat as still as any ston