"As we were both going below, I said, 'By-the-way, where is Mr Daniel Snout?--I haven't seen _him_ yet.' 'Ah!' said the planter, turning round, 'where is Daniel, after all! _I_ haven't seen him either, since we left the schooner's deck--no, by Jove! sir, he really hasn't come on board, now I think of it! I recollect we were the last boat, and he wasn't in it, although he was behind me just before I got down.' 'What can the man mean?' said I; and we both stood at the top of the hatchway ladder, looking toward the horizon, at the speck of a schooner. 'By jingo, Collins!' exclaimed the planter, chuckling, 'the Yankee is gone to be a pirate!'"
"More than once that night," resumed Captain Collins, "I woke up with a start, at thought of our late adventures in the river Nouries--fancying I was still waiting for the turn of tide to bring down the boats or the schooner, and had gone to sleep, when that horrible sound through the cabin skylight seemed full in my ears again. However, the weltering wash of the water under the ship's timbers below one's head was proof enough we were well to sea; and, being dog-tired, I turned over each time with a new gusto--not to speak of the happy sort of feeling that ran all through me, I scarce knew why; though no doubt one might have dreamt plenty of delightful dreams without remembering them, more especially after such a perfect seventh heaven as I had found myself in for a moment or two, when Violet Hyde's hand first touched mine, and when I carried her in after she had actually saved my life.
"The broad daylight through our quarter-gallery window roused me at last altogether; and on starting up I saw Tom Westwood, half-dressed, shaving himself by an inch or two of broken looking-glass in regular nautical style--that's to say, watching for the rise of the ship--as she had the wind evidently on her opposite beam, and there appeared to be pretty much of a long swell afloat, with a breeze brisk enough to make her heel to it; while the clear horizon, seen shining through the port to north-westward, over the dark-blue heave of water, showed it was far on in the morning. 'Well, Ned,' said Westwood, turning round, 'you seemed to be enjoying it, in spite of the warm work you must have had last night on board here. Why, I thought you had been with us in the boats, after all, till I found, by the good joke the cadets made of it, that that puppy of a mate had left you still locked up, on account of some fancy he had got into his head of your being in partnership with the schooner! For heaven's sake, though, my dear fellow, wash your face and shave--you look fearfully suspicious just now!'