er to be done, the boys did as he proposed,
and wandered about the village. It was about two miles long, with
houses scattered at intervals along the single street of which it was
composed, with here, and there a ship-yard. At one end was a long,
projecting ledge, with a light-house; at the other there was a romantic
valley, through which a stream ran into the bay. On the other side of
this stream were cliffs of sandstone rocks, in which were deep,
cavernous hollows, worn by the waves; beyond this, again, was a long
line of a precipitous shore, in whose sides were curious shelves, along
which it was possible to walk for a great distance, with the sea
thundering on the rocks beneath. At any other time they would have
taken an intense enjoyment in a place like this, where there were so
many varied scenes; but now their sense of enjoyment was blunted, for
they carried in their minds a perpetual anxiety. None the less,
however, did they wander about, penetrating up the valley, exploring
the caverns, and traversing the cliffs.

They did not return to the schooner till dusk. It would not be high
tide till midnight, and so they prolonged their excursion purposely, so
as to use up the time. On reaching the schooner they were welcomed by
Captain Corbet.

"I declar, boys," said he, "I'm getting to be a leetle the biggest old
fool that ever lived. It's all this accident. It's onmanned me. I
had a nap for two or three hours, but waked at six, an ever sence I've
been a worretin an a frettin about youns. Sence that thar accident, I
can't bar to have you out of my sight, for I fear all the time that you
ar gettin into mischief. An now I've been skeart for two mortal hours,
a fancyin you all tumblin down from the cliffs, or a strugglin in the
waters."

"O, we can take care of ourselves, captain," said Bart

"No, you can't--not you. I wouldn't trust one of you. I'm getting to
be a feeble creetur too,--so don't go away agin."

"Well, I don't think we'll have a chance in Quaco. Arn't we going to
leave to-night?"

"Wal, that thar is jest the pint that I've been moosin on. You see
it's thick; the fog's as bad as ever. What's the use of going out
to-night? Now, ef we wait till to-morrow, it may be clear, an then we
can decide what to do."

At this proposal, the boys were silent for a time. The experience
which they had formed of the bay and its fogs showed them how useless
would be any search by night, and the pro