crew was loitering on deck, even Johnny Lark and
Tony, the boy, to get a glimpse of the mysterious passenger. They
saw only a slender, graceful, quick-stepping figure, her face
veiled, her hands neatly gloved. Just how she was dressed and what
she really looked like only daylight would reveal.

Tunis went below with her and remained until the men brought down
the trunk. It was a small trunk and brand-new, as was the bag. Had
one observed, the hat she wore, and even her simple frock, were
likewise just out of the shop. At least the girl who was going with
the _Seamew_ to Big Wreck Cove seemed to have made certain
preparations for a new life.

The captain came out on deck and closed the slide. The commercial
tug was puffing in toward the _Seamew's_ berth.

"Come alive, boys!" said Captain Latham, taking instant command of
the deck. "Cast off those lines! Get that tug hawser inboard, Horry.
Mr. Chapin, will you see that those lines are coiled down properly?
Keep the deck shipshape. Make less work for your watch when we get
under canvas.

"Lay aft here with your men now, Horry. Tail on to those mainsheets.
All together! Get away on her so we can cast loose as soon as
possible from that smoky scuttle butt."

He referred to the tug. He stepped aft to take the wheel himself.
The mainsail was going up smartly. The old boatswain and the
Portygees swung upon the lines with vehemence. There was not more
than a capful of wind; but once let the canvas fill, and the
schooner would get steerageway.

"I'd rather take my chance through the channel under sail than
depend on that tug," the captain added. "Like a puppy dragging
around an old rubber boot. Lively there! Ready to cast off, Mr.
Chapin."

The schooner was freed of the "puffing abomination," the smoke of
which sooted the _Seamew's_ clean sails. The heavy hawser splashed
overboard and the schooner staggered away rather drunkenly at
first, tacking among the larger craft anchored out there in the
harbor.

The wind was not a very helpful one and soon after midnight it fell
almost calm. There were only light airs to urge the _Seamew_ on. Yet
she glided through the starlit murk in a ghostly fashion as though
some monstrous submarine hand forced her seaward.

The water chuckled and gurgled under her bow, flashing in ripples
now and then. There was no phosphorescence, no glitter or sparkle.
The schooner moved on as through a tideless sea. Now and then a
clutter of spars o