don't
discover any signs of the fire yet, do you Sam?"

"No, I don't. Mebbe them swells have put it out."

"O, now, they haven't, either," drawled Tom, who could not be persuaded
to believe that his "splendid idea" had failed, after all the trouble
and danger he had incurred to make it successful. "They couldn't put it
out--there was too much coal-oil in the galley. She must be entirely
consumed by this time; but, if I thought she wasn't, I should be tempted
to go back and try it again."

"There come them spooneys, cap'n," shouted Xury, from his place at the
wheel.

Tom looked toward the village, and could just distinguish the dim
outlines of a vessel which was coming out of the harbor, and appeared to
be following in the schooner's wake. The thought that it was the Storm
King had scarcely passed through his mind, when his mate continued:

"We've wasted a heap of good time in helping you carry out your idea.
You had oughter done your work well, while you were at it. That's the
sloop you tried to burn."

"O, now, you don't know what you are talking about," drawled Tom.

"I reckon I do. I can tell the Storm King as fur as I can see her.
Friday, bust open the door of the cabin, an' bring up the 'squire's
spy-glass."

Friday went forward after a handspike, and Tom leaned his elbows on the
rail and watched the approaching vessel. The thought that this last
grand idea of his would share the fate of all his splendid schemes, had
never once entered his head. He had been certain that it would prove
successful--he did not see how it could be otherwise; but now he was
convinced that it had failed, for he had examined the yacht so often and
so closely, that he knew the exact shape of every sail and rope on her,
and it did not require the aid of the 'squire's spy-glass to satisfy him
that the vessel following in his wake was the one he had tried to
destroy. He knew it was the Storm King. No other sloop of that size
about the village could sail so swiftly, or ride the waves so
gracefully. Even while he leaned over the rail, so filled with rage and
disappointment that he could scarcely breathe, he could not help saying
to himself, as he had done a hundred times before, that she was the
prettiest object in the shape of a vessel that he had ever seen. And now
to think that he must go away from Newport, and leave her in the hands
of his rival! He would never have another opportunity to try any of his
splendid ideas on her; and