Herman, and then the two joined us, the latter taking the tiller, the
former pushing off, and springing alertly into the bow.

Lying between the thwarts, face turned upward, all I could see
distinctly was the black oarsman, although occasionally, when he leaned
forward, I caught glimpses of the fellow I believed to be the captain
of the strange crew. Our boat skirted the shore, keeping close within
the concealing shadows, as evidenced by overhanging trees. The only
word spoken was a growling command by Herman at the rudder, and the
oars were noiseless as though muffled. Yet the men rowed with a will,
and scarcely twenty minutes elapsed ere we were scraping along the side
of a vessel of some size, and then came to a stop at foot of a
boarding-ladder.




CHAPTER XXI

ON BOARD THE SEA GULL

The Captain--for so I must call him--went up first, after hailing the
deck in French, and receiving some answer. Then, under Herman's
orders, I was hustled roughly to my feet, and bundled aboard. My head
still reeled dizzily, and the two men gripping my arms, hurried me over
the rail so swiftly my first impressions were extremely vague. I knew
the sides of the vessel were painted a dull gray, as nearly an
invisible color as could be conceived; I recall the sharp sheer of her
bow, the clearness of her lines, and the low sweep of her rail. Less
than a 1,000 tons burden, I thought, and then, as my eyes swept aloft,