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 on and took his seat in the stern. Almayne loosed the rope which held the pirogue to the landing, pushed the boat clear, and seated himself on the forward thwart. In a moment the long paddles wielded by the two Indians were driving the canoe swiftly and noiselessly down the winding creek towards the river.

Across the broad Ashley opened the mouth of Wappoo Creek, connecting the Ashley and the Stono. So that they might seem to have come from the direc tion of Wappoo they headed well out into the river. Then they swung to the left and dropped straight down the Ashley toward two lights, one just above the other, that glimmered faintly far out in the stream.

Suddenly the brig loomed black before them, not ten yards distant. Lachlan had expected a hail, but it appeared that in the darkness their approach had not been observed. In a whisper Almayne suggested that they hail the brig; but Lachlan shook his head. Silently they ran under the vessel's stern, then eased the pirogue along to the ship's waist where her rail was nearest the water-line.

No sound came from her. Lachlan rose, placed his foot in Little Mink's cupped hands, reached upward and grasped the bulwark. Next moment he stood on the brig's deck.

He stood silent, watchful, his back to the bulwark, his hand on his sword-hilt, his eyes searching the gloom. He saw nothing, heard nothing. The dim deck lay empty before him; ahead and to his right he could barely discern the foremast towering upward like a