faint gleam of red or green windily coming and going out upon the
weltering obscurity, but away to starboard the horizon ran black,
without a single break of shore light that I could see. The yacht was
swarming through it under all canvas, humming as she went. Her pace,
if it lasted, would, I knew, speedily terminate this sea-going passage
of our elopement, and I looked over the stern very well pleased to
witness the white sweep of the wake melting at a little distance into a
mere elusive faintness.

Caudel stood near the helm,

"This will do, I think," said I.

"Ay, sir," he answered; "she's finding her heels now. See that there
brig out yonder?" and his arm pointed out against the stars over the
horizon to a dim green light on the right of our wake astern. "She was
ahead of us half an hour ago, and I allow she was walking too--warn't
she, Job?"

"Warping, more like," answered the man in a grunting voice.

"You go and smoother yourself!" cried Caudel; "why, damme a heagle
can't fly if _you're_ to be believed."

"When are we to be off St. Catherine's Point at this pace, Caudel?"
said I.

"At this pace, sir--why, betwixt seven and eight o'clock to-morrow
morning."

"What a deuce of a length this English Channel runs to!" cried I
impatiently. "Why, it will be little better than beginning our voyage
even when the Isle of Wight is abreast."

"Yes, sir, there's a deal o' water going to the making of this here
Channel--a blooming sight too much of it when it comes on a winter's
night a-blowing and a-snowing, the hatmosphere thick as muck," answered
Caudel.

"There'll be a bright look-out kept to-night, I hope," said I. "Not
the value of all the cargoes afloat at this present instant, Caudel,
the wide world over, equals the worth of my treasure aboard the
_Spitfire_."

Here Job Crew took a step to leeward to spit.

"Trust me to see that a bright look-out's kept, Mr. Barclay. There'll
be no tarning in with me this night. Don't let no fear of anything
going wrong disturb your mind, sir."

I lingered to finish my pipe. The fresh wind flashed into the face
damp with the night and the spray-cold breath of the sea, and the
planks of the deck showed dark with the moisture to the dim starlight.
There was some weight in the heads of seas as they came rolling to our
beam, and the little vessel was now soaring and falling briskly upon
the heave of the folds whose volume, of course, gained as the Channel
broad