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The skipper of the schooner Island Queen paced his after deck and waited for the strength of the tide. There was a two masted fishing vessel tied up at the other side of the wharf; she was a clean looking craft of the type called shallop, and carried two good sized lug sails. Her captain stood upon the pier, talking to the commander of the schooner.

“You are not the only one that caught good luck at the last minute,” he was saying.

“Who else has got a share of it?” asked the other.

“I have. An hour after you’d told me that you’d got a couple of passengers for Portsmouth, a man came along and engaged my vessel for a run along the coast.”

“What’s he going to do with her?”

“I don’t know. But I’m going along; so I’ll be sure that all’s right.”

“Money’s tight in these days of war,” remarked the skipper of the schooner, “but,” with a shake of the head, “my boat only goes out with reg’lar cargoes and on reg’lar business. I don’t like these queer cruises. I’ve seen strange things happen on ’em.”

The captain of the shallop nodded his head and answered, soberly enough:

“You’re right, cap’en; but I don’t have no reg’lar cargoes, and fishing don’t pay any more, with British privateers always poking their noses into the lower bay. A man must support his family, you know.”

Ethan Carlyle and Longsword stood in the waist, leaning against the schooner’s rail and listening to this conversation. When the skipper of the shallop crossed the pier and climbed into his own vessel, Ethan said:

“Somehow or other I don’t like that.”

“And why not?” asked the Irish dragoon.

“It impresses me oddly. It may be that the possession of important papers has made me nervous, but I can’t help feeling that the sudden hiring of that fishing-boat over there has something to do with us.”

“It may be so,” spoke the trooper. “Sure that villain was not listening to what the gentlemen were saying to ye awhile ago for nothing, Master Ethan.”

“He was a strange looking fellow.”

“Yes; some kind of a brown man like they have in India, and far off places like that. But he was a rare good runner, though,” continued Longsword with high admiration, “and I could reach him no more wid me foot after we’d gone a score of yards.”

There was a brisk wind blowing down stream when the tide got its fully swing towards the sea; the skipper cast off his lines and worked the Island Queen out into the river; then the mainsail, foresail and a jib were set and the vessel headed away on her journey. As they were passing the flats below the city, Ethan, who was leaning over the stern rail with Longsword fancied that he saw a dark loom some distance toward the New Jersey shore.

“It looks like a vessel of some kind,” he said to Shamus.

“Your eyes are younger nor mine,” answered the trooper. “I can see nothing.”

“I’ve been watching that for some time,” said the mate of the schooner, who was at the wheel. “Looks to me like a two master of some sort; and she’s a smart sailer, too; much faster than the Queen.”

An hour passed, and the brisk wind carried the schooner well down the river; but off on her port side clung the creeping low-lying shadow that had attracted Ethan’s attention. The sky was thickly overcast with clouds, the moon was hidden, and darkness hung blackly over the face of the waters.

“That craft may be a smarter sailer than the schooner,” said Ethan to the mate, “but she’s not showing it. She’s been hanging there on that quarter all the way down.”

“That’s what I can’t understand,” said the mate. “I’m sure she could walk away from us were she so minded, but they are holding her in for some reason; they’ve got her out of the wind about half the time.”

No more was said about the shadowy craft for some time, until they were off Reedy Island; then the skipper came on deck at the mate’s request, and scanned the dark waters in search of her.

“Seems to me I do make out something,” he said, rather anxiously. “Been following us down the river, has she?”

“Yes; and she’s headed for us now,” said Ethan, whose eyes were keener than his elder’s. He gazed at the vessel which, sure enough, was now rapidly coming up with them; suddenly he grasped the arm of his companion. “Shamus,” he breathed, “I was right.”

“About what?” asked the Irish soldier.

“About the shallop. That’s the same vessel.”

The captain of the Island Queen turned upon the boy.

“Do you mean the shallop that lay in the dock next us?” asked he.

“I feel sure of it,” answered Ethan.

The captain breathed a sigh of relief.

“Oh, then, it’s all well enough. You see her captain is a friend of mine, and I suppose he wants to speak to me.”

“I think,” said Ethan seriously, “that you’ll find that there is something more to it than that.”

“And I agree wid ye,” said Shamus O’Moore; and without another word he dived below.

“Your man seems sort of nervous,” laughed the captain.

“Not he,” smiled Ethan. “If you spoke of nerves to him, I hardly think he’d know what you were talking about.”

“He got below mighty sudden.”

“He’ll be back in a moment. And I fancy he’ll have his tools with him.”

The captain stared, but said nothing more to the lad. Scanning the waters toward the island he spoke to the mate at the wheel in low tones regarding the chart by which he was steering. They were still so engaged when the big lug sails of the shallop came plainly into view and a voice from her deck hailed hoarsely,

“Ahoy, the schooner!”

“Ahoy,” answered the schooner’s skipper promptly.

“Is that the Island Queen?”

“It is. What craft is that?”

“The Saucy Sue, shallop.”

“Oh, is that you, Captain Hutchins?”

There was silence for a moment, then the voice replied:

“Yes; lay to; I want to come aboard of you.”

“Very well,” and the schooner’s commander gave the order to his crew.

But Ethan stepped to his side quickly and said:

“Be careful of what you do.”

The captain laughed and answered, “Oh, I see that the Irishman is not the only person aboard the Queen that’s nervous. You’ve got a touch of that complaint yourself, my lad.”

“It’s not a question of nerves,” said Ethan quietly. “But it’s been my experience that one vessel does not hang in the wake of another for any good purpose.”

“Your experience,” cried the skipper good humoredly; “listen to that, Mr. Jarvis!”

The mate grinned and said:

“Sounds kind of curious to hear a boy talk like that to two old salts, don’t it?”

“What experience have you had on blue water, and with mysterious craft, sonny?” asked the Queen’s skipper, humorously.

“Enough to teach me not to do what you have done,” answered the boy. “Coasting is easy, steady going work enough here in these northern waters when there is no Englishman about; but I’ve sailed in ships that have cleared the decks for action at the beginning of a voyage, and kept them cleared except for the bodies of half breed pirates who boarded them.”

The skipper looked at the mate; in the light of the compass lantern it was to be seen that that worthy had lost his grin.

“Where was that, youngster?” asked he.

“In the Gulf and West Indian waters,” said Ethan. “My grandfather and my father composed the firm of Clarette & Co.”

The schooner was, by this time, rocking idly upon the waters of the bay; and the shallop was drawing nearer with each moment. There was no man who followed the sea in the western world who had not heard of the great firm of Clarette & Co., shipowners, now passed out of existence; and with a quiet smile Ethan noticed the increased respect with which the captain and mate of the schooner regarded him. Just then Longsword came stamping upon deck; he had his huge, double-edged blade belted about him; in his hands he carried Ethan’s sword and a couple of brace of heavy pistols.

“We are ready for them, asthore, no matter who they are,” cried he as he handed the boy his weapons, drew his heavy blade and whirled it about his head with a swishing sound that caused the seamen in his neighborhood to duck their heads instinctively.

“You two are taking a great deal of pains for nothing,” growled the captain. “I tell you there is no danger of any kind to be expected from that craft there. I’ve known her captain for years.”

“Her captain, yes,” said Ethan, evenly. “But you do not know the men who have engaged her from him, nor what their purpose is.”

“You are right,” said the captain, after a pause. “He told me only to-night that some people had chartered his vessel for a cruise of some kind. Do you reckon,” and he regarded Ethan closely, “that they are after you folks?”

“I’m not at all sure,” answered the lad, “but I am inclined to think that they are.”

“And come to look at the thing right between the eyes,” spoke the mate, “I don’t think that was Captain Hutchins or any of his people that hailed us. It was a strange voice to me.”

This seemed to settle the matter in the captain’s mind, and whirling about he gave quick, sharp orders to get the vessel into the wind. But he was too late. The Island Queen still hung, when the smart shallop drew alongside.

“Ahoy,” shouted a voice from the latter’s deck. “Take care there; you’ll be afoul of us.”

“Then sheer off,” yelled the schooner’s captain.

“But we want to speak to you.”

“Sheer off, I tell you,” bellowed the frightened captain of the schooner, “or I’ll run you down!”

“Lay that old tub to, or I’ll send a couple of musket shot into your hide,” shouted the voice threateningly.

“He’ll be aboard of us in a minute,” cried the captain.

“Have you any arms on board?” asked Ethan quietly, as he looked to the priming of his pistols and slipped his sword in and out of the scabbard to assure himself that it was free.

“A couple of cutlasses and pikes,” said the skipper; “and a brace of pistols in the cabin.”

“Then get them on deck if ye love me,” cried Longsword. “These are a couple of stout looking lads ye have here, and wid a few feet of cold steel in their fists they ought to do good work.”

As the sides of the two vessels ground together the weapons were produced. Ethan and the Irish dragoon stationed themselves in the waist, the mate took two men armed with long handled pikes into the bow, while the captain and three others were left to defend the after deck.

No sooner had they reached these positions overlooking the shallop than a grapple was thrown aboard and fastened the two craft together.

“Bad luck to him for an impudent villain,” growled Longsword, “but he goes about it in workmanlike style.”

“It’s not the first ship he’s cut out, whoever he is,” answered Ethan.

“Steady,” grumbled the low-pitched voice of the swordsman. “Here they come, me jewel!”

The waist was the point at which it was chosen to board the schooner. A sharp snapping of pistols that spat redly through the darkness preceded the rush. Then a dozen active figures swarmed up the sides of the Island Queen, cutlass and pistol in hand. But bold as they appeared to be it is doubtful if they would have made the attempt had they known what awaited them upon the schooner’s deck.

As they sprang upon the rail they were met with a sharp fusilade of pistol shots that sent two of their number headlong into the bay; then Ethan and the grim dragoon drew their blades and fell upon them.

The officers and crew of the Island Queen could never tell just what happened there in the schooner’s waist in the dim light of the lanterns. They saw a dreadful whirl of blows, two swords that looked like circles of flame, two straining, panting, laboring figures that seemed to carry death in their hands. Then the decks were cleared; the shallop drew off slowly, firing an occasional musket shot, while the cries of pain from her deck showed how fierce had been her crew’s repulse.

“Go about after her,” yelled Shamus O’Moore, “we’ll board and take her, so we will!”

The officers and crew of the schooner had not struck a blow, and were very well satisfied to let matters remain as they were.

“She’s getting up sail,” said the skipper, peering through the darkness. “And we could never come up with her.”

This was true, as Ethan saw at once; under press of the two spreading lugs the shallop was already nothing but a shadow.

“Did you make out the faces of any of them?” asked Ethan, when the Island Queen was once more under way.

“I did not,” answered the trooper, as he cleaned the blade of his sword with the frayed end of a rope. “I were too busy cracking the heads of them. And when they went over the side they took all the hurted ones wid them.”

There was silence between them for a moment. Ethan was loading his pistols, the ex-dragoon rubbed industriously at his blade, and the seamen hurried about their duties. Then Shamus spoke once more.

“I didn’t see sorra the one of them, Master Ethan; but there is one thing I feel mortal sure of.”

“And what’s that, old Longsword?”

“That brown man was in that craft. He had a crooked kind of a knife and he were poking it at the ribs of me in the darkness. I didn’t see him; but just the same I felt that he was there.”

“I have no doubt,” said Ethan gravely enough, “but what you are right. And perhaps we’ll hear from him again.”