s that had confined
them so long, and had pointed out to him the way to retreat and escape;
but he must run the gauntlet of dangers in order to do so. This,
however, he was prepared to do; as to fear, it was a sensation he knew
not; but prudence was much more requisite in this instance than any
especial degree of courage. As is always the case on board a man-of-war,
especially when lying in port, where the escape to the shore is easy,
sentinels were placed at stem, stern and waist of the English ship, at
all hours, pacing their allotted round of the deck, and keeping watchful
guard over every avenue of exit from the vessel.

The only possible plan of escape that suggested itself to Charles
Bramble, under the circumstances, was to place a few necessary articles
of clothing in a small package, and confine it to the back of his neck,
while he should divest himself of all garments, slip quietly into the
water on the seaward side of the ship, where none of the sentries were
immediately placed, the object being to guard the access to the shore
more especially. Once in the water he had only to strike out quietly for
the shore, trusting the dullness of the sentries and the favoring
darkness of the night to enable him to reach the land unobserved.

He had the most to fear from the sentry placed on the top-gallant
forecastle of the ship, as that post was so near to his line of passage.
He would have to swim around the bows far enough out to clear the land
tackle, and when he got on an even line with the ship's bows, this
sentry, if he happened to be on the lookout at the moment, could hardly
fail to see him on the surface of the water. To obviate this difficulty,
Leonard Hust, who was a sort of privileged person on board, being the
captain's confidential servant and man of all work, undertook to engage
the sentry's attention by sonic device, for a few moments, just at the
opportune period, while the prisoner should get fairly clear of the
ship.

"See here, Bill," said Leonard Hust, carelessly, as he emerged from the
fore hatch; "look ye, old boy, I have had such a dream, hang me if I can
sleep a wink."

"What's that to me?" growled the sentry, morosely, and not much more
than half awake.

"Why, if you knew what it was I dreamed, you would think it was
something to you," continued the other, with assumed mystery and
seriousness.

"Look ye, Leonard Hust," said the marine, "do you know you arc talking
to a sentry on duty, an