ould not see much
on account of the darkness, but his ears told him that the presence of
himself and companions was unsuspected; and, having satisfied himself on
this point, the visitor, whoever he was, clambered carefully over the
rail, and a moment afterward was crouching on deck at the head of the
ladder which led down into the forecastle.

"What's that?" exclaimed one of the watch, suddenly interrupting the
story he was relating to his companion.

"I didn't hear any thing," replied the other.

"Well, I imagined I did. Every dark night that I stand watch, I think of
the Crusoe band."

"O, they're a hundred miles from here by this time--perhaps more. Go on
with your yarn."

The young sailor listened a moment, but as the sound which had attracted
his attention was not repeated, he resumed his story; whereupon, the
figure at the hatchway arose to his feet, and stealthily descended the
ladder. He was gone about five minutes, and then re-appeared, crawled
noiselessly across the deck, and had just placed his hands upon the
rail, when he was discovered by one of the watch.

"Hallo! Boat--ship--I mean, man--ahoy!" shouted the young tar, evidently
at a loss to determine how he ought to hail a stranger found on deck of
his vessel, under such circumstances.

Both the watch made a rush for the mysterious visitor, who disappeared
over the rail like a flash; and, by the time they reached the side, he
was in his boat, which was moving off into the darkness. But he did not
get away in time to escape recognition by the watch, both of whom stood
for an instant as if petrified, and then called out, in amazement and
alarm,

"TOM NEWCOMBE!"

"Where?" exclaimed Jackson, the officer of the deck, hurrying forward.

"In his boat there, sir, with half a dozen other fellows. He has been on
board the vessel; we caught sight of him just as he was climbing over
the rail."

The officer was thunderstruck. The presence of their evil genius at that
hour, and under such circumstances, boded no good to the yacht and her
crew, and, for a moment, Jackson stood holding fast to the rail,
imagining all sorts of terrible things. He would not have been
astonished if the waters of the harbor had suddenly opened to swallow up
the vessel and her sleeping company. He even thought he felt the deck
rise under his feet, and held his breath, expecting to hear an
explosion, and to find himself struggling in the water amid the wreck of
the Storm King. Bu