ver, for there's a channel here!"

[Illustration]

He turned to Chris as the sound of running feet and of the boats being
hoisted overboard came loudly in the stillness of the night.

"Now Christopher, my boy, do you go down and go over the side again,
and remember what we spoke of a few hours agone!"

The next half-hour was an exhausting one for poor Chris. It was an
impossibility for him to keep for long at a time, either his own, or
the shape of the porpoise. He had to enter the water under the eyes of
the sailors waiting with their oars poised above the sea, in the
shape they knew; Christopher Mason. But once he dived under, in order
to seek out the treacherous channel in the half-light, he needed his
fish's eyes and senses. He therefore would swim a few yards as a fish,
but had to surface again as himself in order to let the men see him,
and call: "The length of two boats, keeping to starboard, boys. Then
ease her over this way--to port."

So it went, almost foot by foot until the _Mirabelle_ was safe inside
the cove and turned broadside to the entrance. Then, and only then,
with the anchor safely dropped to the white sandy depths of this
hidden harbor, did Chris, tired to his very bones, climb up the ladder
and over the ship's side. There remained the camouflaging of the
_Mirabelle_, for the stars were fading and before long, dawn would
banish secrecy.

[Illustration]

But Captain Blizzard and Mr. Finney awaited Chris on deck. Captain
Blizzard had his hands clasped behind his back in his habitual
gesture, and as Chris stood before him swaying with fatigue, there was
a look on the Captain's face that Chris had never seen there before.
The usually cheerful, joking man was grave, while Mr. Finney, so sober
and forlorn as a rule, looked positively jubilant.

"My good lad," the Captain said, "you said you could do it, but truth
to tell, I doubted it from the bottom of my heart. Now that you have
succeeded where I am sure no other could have done as well, I find I
have no words of praise good enough for ye." He looked almost tenderly
at the tired boy. "I am proud of you, Christopher. You did a man's
task with a boy's body and mind. And it took a man's spirit, too."

Without further words the Captain of the _Mirabelle_ held out his
pudgy hand to hold Chris's in a steadying grip, and Mr. Finney swung
out his hand, his long face breaking into one of the rare smiles Chris
was ever to see on it.

"Now, me boy,"