_Porcupine_--I
owe him more than I can ever repay, and he owes me something too.
That sort of thing binds men together; and see what I have done to
him--carried off his wife!"

Curwen grunted, enigmatically, and disengaged a hand to scratch his
chin.

"I must have speech with him. I must, it is enough to drive me mad to
think what he may be thinking of me. What I purpose is this: we'll
disguise the ship as far as we can (we have the time), paint her a new
streak and alter those topsails, change the set of the bowsprit and
strike out her name."

"That's unlucky," said the mate.

"Unlucky, is it? Well, she's not been so lucky this run that we need
fear to change the luck. Then, Curwen, we'll slip in at night at a
high tide, watching for our opportunity and a dark sky; we'll unship
the cargo, and then you shall take command of her and carry her off to
the East Coast and wait there, till I am able to send you word or join
you. It will only be a few hours danger for the men, after all."

Still keeping his seaman eye upon the compass, Curwen cleared his
throat with a gruesome noise. Then in tones which seemed to issue with
difficulty from some immense depth:

"Beg pardon, sir," he said, "that ain't a bargain."

"How now?" cried his captain, sharply.

"No, sir," rolling his head portentously; "that don't run to a
bargain, that don't. The lads of the _Peregrine_ 'll stick to their
skipper through thick and thin. I'll warrant them, every man Jack of
them; and if there was one who grumbled, I'd have my knife in him
before another caught the temper from him--I would, or my name's not
Curwen. If ye bid us steer to hell we'll do it for you, sir, and
welcome. But for to go and leave you there--no, sir, it can't be
done."

Captain Jack gave a little laugh that was as tender as a woman's tear.
Curwen rolled his head again and mumbled to himself:

"It can't be done."

Then Jack Smith clapped his hand on the sailor's shoulder.

"But it's got to be done!" he cried. "It is the only thing you can do
to help me, Curwen. To have our _Peregrine_ out in the daylight on
that coast would be stark madness--no disguise could avail her, and
you can't change your ugly old phiz, can you? As for me, I must have a
few days on shore, danger or no danger. Ah, Curwen," with a sudden,
passionate outbreak, "there are times when a man's life is the least
of his thoughts!"

"Couldn't I stop with you, sir?"

"I would not trust the ship to an