while he was wandering about the world, a
fugitive from justice, Harry Green would remain in the village,
surrounded with friends, beloved and respected by all who knew him, and,
worse than all, first lieutenant of the Storm King. It was some time
before the captain of the Crusoe band could realize all this; but when
he did, he was so nearly beside himself that he would not have cared a
grain if the schooner had foundered at that moment, carrying all hands,
himself included, to the bottom.

"O, now, did any body in this world ever see or hear of so unlucky a boy
as I am?" yelled Tom, stamping his foot on the deck, and fairly
trembling with anger. "I never can do any thing like other fellows, for
something is forever happening to bother me. Another of my grand ideas
has ended in smoke! The yacht is above water yet. I wish she would
capsize. Go away with your spy-glass, Friday. What do I want with a
spy-glass, when I know it is the Storm King?"

"What did I tell you, cap'n?" said Xury.

"O, now, I want you to hush up!" shouted Tom, placing his hands on the
rail, and jumping up and down as if he were about to precipitate himself
into the waves. "Don't speak to me; don't any body dare speak to me. I
am a desperate man; and if you don't look out, I'll--I'll--I've the
greatest notion in the world to jump overboard."

"There's the yawl, an' I can see them two bugglars standin' by it," said
Atkins.

He addressed himself to the governor, not deeming it safe to speak to
Tom, who showed an alarming disposition to break things. He had caught
up a handspike, and was swinging it around his head, glaring fiercely at
his companions as if he had half a mind to strike one of them; but,
thinking better of it, he turned and brought the handspike down upon the
rail with such force that the little vessel fairly trembled under the
blow. The governor stood off at a safe distance and looked at him,
hoping that his rage would soon subside, and that he would give his
attention to his duties. But Tom continued to beat the rail with the
handspike, now and then stopping to look at the yacht, which seemed to
be rapidly falling behind. "Be you gone clean crazy?" Sam ventured to
ask, at length.

"No, I haven't!" shouted Tom. "I wish I had about twenty good men; I
would board that yacht and make sure work of her. I'd cut a hole through
her bottom, and I'd stay by her and watch her until she had sunk
completely out of sight. Then I'd like to see