gside the yacht, the bow-oarsman arose to his feet, and fastened into the fore-chains with a boat-hook, after which, a figure in the stern sheets placed his hands upon the rail, and drew himself up until he had obtained a view of the vessel's deck. He could not see much on account of the darkness, but his ears told him that the presence of himself and companions was unsuspected; and, having satisfied himself on this point, the visitor, whoever he was, clambered carefully over the rail, and a moment afterward was crouching on deck at the head of the ladder which led down into the forecastle.
"What's that?" exclaimed one of the watch, suddenly interrupting the story he was relating to his companion.
"I didn't hear any thing," replied the other.
"Well, I imagined I did. Every dark night that I stand watch, I think of the Crusoe band."
"O, they're a hundred miles from here by this time--perhaps more. Go on with your yarn."
The young sailor listened a moment, but as the sound whi