nks, hidden by the clothes which the man had
thrown over him, and peeping out from under them at the familiar streets
and houses.

Presently they passed under a bridge and entered that part of the canal
which forms a moat for the fortress. The massive walls rose out of the
water, broad at the base and narrowing upward to the frowning turrets.
How strong, how threatening they had seemed to him a few hours ago! And
now----

He laughed softly as he lay in the bottom of the boat.

"Hold your noise," the sailor whispered, "and keep your head covered!
We're close to the custom house."

Arthur drew the clothes over his head. A few yards further on the boat
stopped before a row of masts chained together, which lay across the
surface of the canal, blocking the narrow waterway between the custom
house and the fortress wall. A sleepy official came out yawning and bent
over the water's edge with a lantern in his hand.

"Passports, please."

The sailor handed up his official papers. Arthur, half stifled under the
clothes, held his breath, listening.

"A nice time of night to come back to your ship!" grumbled the customs
official. "Been out on the spree, I suppose. What's in your boat?"

"Old clothes. Got them cheap." He held up the waistcoat for inspection.
The official, lowering his lantern, bent over, straining his eyes to
see.

"It's all right, I suppose. You can pass."

He lifted the barrier and the boat moved slowly out into the dark,
heaving water. At a little distance Arthur sat up and threw off the
clothes.

"Here she is," the sailor whispered, after rowing for some time in
silence. "Keep close behind me and hold your tongue."

He clambered up the side of a huge black monster, swearing under his
breath at the clumsiness of the landsman, though Arthur's natural
agility rendered him less awkward than most people would have been in
his place. Once safely on board, they crept cautiously between dark
masses of rigging and machinery, and came at last to a hatchway, which
the sailor softly raised.

"Down here!" he whispered. "I'll be back in a minute."

The hold was not only damp and dark, but intolerably foul. At first
Arthur instinctively drew back, half choked by the stench of raw hides
and rancid oil. Then he remembered the "punishment cell," and descended
the ladder, shrugging his shoulders. Life is pretty much the same
everywhere, it seemed; ugly, putrid, infested with vermin, full of
shameful secrets and d