ett himself. This was to
slip out under cover of the night, cut the _Hispaniola_ adrift, and let
her go ashore where she fancied. I had quite made up my mind that the
mutineers, after their repulse of the morning, had nothing nearer their
hearts than to up anchor and away to sea; this, I thought, it would be a
good thing to prevent; and now that I had seen how they left their
watchmen unprovided with a boat, I thought it might be done with little
risk.

Down I sat to wait for darkness, and made a hearty meal of biscuit. It
was a night out of ten thousand for my purpose. The fog had now buried
all heaven. As the last rays of daylight dwindled and disappeared,
absolute blackness settled down on Treasure Island. And when, at last, I
shouldered the coracle, and groped my way stumblingly out of the hollow
where I had supped, there were but two points visible on the whole
anchorage.

One was the great fire on shore, by which the defeated pirates lay
carousing in the swamp. The other, a mere blur of light upon the
darkness, indicated the position of the anchored ship. She had swung
round to the ebb--her bow was now towards me--the only lights on board
were in the cabin; and what I saw was merely a reflection on the fog of
the strong rays that flowed from the stern window.

The ebb had already run some time, and I had to wade through a long belt
of swampy sand, where I sank several times above the ankle, before I came
to the edge of the retreating water, and wading a little way in, with
some strength and dexterity, set my coracle, keel downwards, on the
surface.

CHAPTER XXIII

THE EBB-TIDE RUNS

The coracle--as I had ample reason to know before I was done with
her--was a very safe boat for a person of my height and weight, both
buoyant and clever in a sea-way; but she was the most cross-grained,
lop-sided craft to manage. Do as you pleased, she always made more leeway
than anything else, and turning round and round was the manoeuvre she
was best at. Even Ben Gunn himself has admitted that she was "queer to
handle till you knew her way."

Certainly I did not know her way. She turned in every direction but the
one I was bound to go; the most part of the time we were broadside on,
and I am very sure I never should have made the ship at all but for the
tide. By good fortune, paddle as I pleased, the tide was still sweeping
me down; and there lay the _Hispaniola_ right in the fair-way, hardly to
be missed.