rwald and his
party.

"Follow me quietly," said Gascoyne. "Keep in single file and close
together, for if we are separated here we shall not easily get together
again."

Leading them over the same ground that he had formerly traversed,
Gascoyne conducted his party to the shores of the bay where the _Foam_
lay at anchor. Here he made them keep close in the bushes, with
directions to be ready to act the instant he should call on them to do
so.

"But it would comfort me mightily, Mister Gascoyne," said Thorwald in a
somewhat troubled voice, "if you would give me some instructions or
advice as to what I am to do in the event of your plans miscarrying. I
care nought for a fair fight in open field, but I do confess to a
dislike of being brought to the condition of _not knowing what to do_."

"It won't matter much what you do, Mr Thorwald," said Gascoyne,
gravely. "If my plans miscarry, you will be killed every soul of you.
You'll not have the ghost of a chance of escaping."

Ole opened his eyes uncommonly wide at this. "Well," said he at length,
with a sigh of resignation, "it's some comfort to know that one can only
be killed once."

Gascoyne now proceeded leisurely to strip off his shirt, thereby
displaying a chest, back, and arms in which the muscles were developed
to an extent that might have made Hercules himself envious. Kicking off
his boots, he reduced his clothing to a pair of loose knee-breeches.

"'Tis a strange time to indulge in a cold bath!" murmured Thorwald,
whose state of surprise was beginning to render him desperately
ironical.

Gascoyne took no notice of this remark, but calling Corrie to his side,
said--

"Can you swim, boy?"

"Yes, like a duck."

"Can you distinguish the stern of the schooner?"

"I can."

"Listen, then. When you see a white sheet waved over the taffrail,
throw off your jacket and shirt and swim out to the schooner. D'ye
understand?"

"Perfectly," replied the boy, whose decision of manner and action grew
with the occasion.

"And now, Mr Thorwald," said Gascoyne, "I shall swim off to the
schooner. If, as I expect, the men are on shore in a place that I wot
of and with which you have nothing to do, well and good, I will send a
boat for you with muffled oars--but, mark you, let there be no noise in
embarking or in getting aboard the schooner. If, on the other hand, the
men are aboard, I will bring a boat to you myself, in which case silence
will not be so nec