"You don't mean," inquired my father, with a glance out of the window,
"that I can't launch a small boat from the beach?"

"You could, captain, if you'd a mind to," said Ned Aiken, tamping down
his tobacco, "but there's lots who couldn't."

"Then I shall," said my father languidly. "Brutus and I will board the
_Sea Tern_ at eight o'clock tonight. You will stand off outside and put
on your running lights."

"Yes," said Mr. Aiken, "it's time we was going."

"You mean they are taking steps?"

"A frigate's due in at midnight," said Mr. Aiken, grinning.

"A frigate! Think of that!" said my father. "At last we seem to be making
our mark on the world."

"We've never done the beat of this," said Mr. Aiken.

"And everything is quiet outside?"

"All right so far," said Mr. Aiken.

"How many men are watching the house?"

"There's four, sir," he answered.

"Ah," said my father, "and Mr. Lawton still stops at the tavern?"