“‘Cutting the waves with the taffrail,’ is not the civillest answer a man can give to a hail,” muttered Fid, as he dropped the blade of his oar into the water; “nor is it a matter to be logged in a man’s memory, that they have taken offence at the same.  Howsomever, master Harry, if they are so minded as to make a quarrel about the thing, give them as good as they send, and count on manly backers.”

No reply was made to this encouraging assurance for, by this time, the skiff was within a few feet of the ship.  Wilder ascended the side of the vessel amid a deep, and, as he felt it to be, an ominous silence.  The night was dark, though enough light fell from the stars, that were here and there visible, to render objects sufficiently distinct to the practised eyes of a seaman.  When our young adventurer touched the deck, he cast a hurried and scrutinizing look about him, as if doubts and impressions, which had long been harboured, were all to be resolved by that first view.

An ignorant landsman would have been struck with the order and symmetry with which the tall spars rose towards the heavens, from the black mass of the hull, and with the rigging that hung in the air, one dark line crossing another, until all design seemed confounded in the confusion and intricacy of the studied maze.  But to Wilder these familiar objects furnished no immediate attraction.  His first rapid glance had, like that of all seamen, it is true, been thrown upward, but it was instantly succeeded by the brief, though keen, examination to which we have just alluded.  With the exception of one who, though his form was muffled in a large sea-cloak, seemed to be an officer, not a living creature was to be seen on the decks.  On either side there was a dark, frowning battery, arranged in the beautiful and imposing order of marine architecture; but nowhere could he find a trace of the crowd of human beings which usually throng the deck of an armed ship, or that was necessary to render the engines effective.  It might be that her people were in their hammocks, as usual at that hour, but still it was customary to leave a sufficient number on the watch, to look to the safety of the vessel.  Finding himself so unexpectedly confronted with a single individual, our adventurer began to be sensible of the awkwardness of his situation, and of the necessity of some explanation.

“You are no doubt surprised, sir,” he said, “at the lateness of the hour that I have chosen for my visit.”

“You were certainly expected earlier,” was the laconic answer.

“Expected!”

“Ay, expected.  Have I not seen you, and your two companions who are in the boat, reconnoitring us half the day, from the wharfs of the town, and even from the old tower on the hill?  What did all this curiosity foretel, but an intention to come on board?”

“This is odd, I will acknowledge!” exclaimed Wilder, in some secret alarm.  “And, then, you had notice of my intentions?”