eding; but they did not rise until the sounds were
out of hearing, presumably in the direction of the _Voyageur_.

* * * * *

Bill o' Burnt Bay began to laugh again. Archie joined him. But Josiah
Cove pointed out the necessity of doing something--anything--and doing
it quickly. It was all very well to laugh, said he; and although it
might seem a comical thing to be standing on the deck of a captured
schooner, the comedy would be the Frenchman's if they were caught in
the act. But Archie still chuckled away; the situation was quite too
ridiculous to be taken seriously. Archie had never been a pirate
before; he didn't feel like one now--but he rather liked the feeling
he had.

"We can't stay aboard," said he, presently.

"Blest if I want t' go ashore," said Bill.

"We _got_ t' go ashore," Josiah put in.

Before they left the deck of the _Heavenly Home_ (the watchman having
then been made more comfortable), it was agreed that the schooner
could not make the open sea in the teeth of the wind. That was
obvious; and it was just as obvious that the Newfoundlander could not
stay aboard. The discovery of the watchman in the cabin must be
chanced until such a time as a fair wind came in the night. On their
way to the obscure wharf at which they landed it was determined that
Josiah should board the schooner at nine o'clock, noon, and six
o'clock of the next day to feed the captured watchman and to set the
galley fire going for half an hour to allay suspicion.

"An' Skipper Bill," said Josiah, seriously, "you lie low. If you don't
you're liable to be took up."

"Take your advice t' yourself," the skipper retorted. "Your
reputation's none o' the best in this harbour."

"We'll sail to-morrow night," said Archie.

"Given a dark night an' a fair wind," the skipper qualified.

Skipper Bill made his way to a quiet cafe of his acquaintance; and
Josiah vanished in the fog to lie hidden with a shipmate of other
days. Archie--depending upon his youth and air and accent and
well-tailored dress to avert suspicion--went boldly to the Hotel
Joinville and sat down to dinner. The dinner was good; he enjoyed it,
and was presently delighting in the romance in which he had a part. It
all seemed too good to be true. How glad he was he had come! To be
here--in the French Islands of Miquelon--to have captured a
schooner--to have a prisoner in the cabin--to be about to run off with
the _Heavenly Hom