As he was placed on the bottom of the boat, under the thwarts, with his face downward, and the gunwales were so high that he could not look over them, he could not tell in what direction the men were taking him. They moved steadily for two hours without exchanging a word, and during that time Chase had ample leisure to think over his situation. At last his ears told him that the men had taken in their oars, and were pushing the yawl through a dense thicket of bushes, and a few minutes afterward a sudden jar, which was followed by a violent rocking of the boat, indicated that it had come in contact with something.
“Here we are at last,” said one of the men, and Chase thought, from the tone in which he spoke the words, that he was glad that the work was over.
“I wish I was somewhere else,” said the prisoner. “Now, perhaps you will be good enough to tell me why you brought me here?”
“That’s something that we have nothing to do with,” answered the man, as he busied himself in untying his captive’s feet, while the rattle of the painter showed that his companion was engaged in making the yawl fast. “It is no part of our business to answer questions. All I can tell you is that we’re not going to hurt you if you behave yourself.”
This assurance removed a heavy burden of anxiety from the mind of the prisoner, who now, being relieved of all apprehensions concerning his personal safety, raised himself to a sitting posture and began to look about him with some curiosity. He noted two things: that the yawl was lying alongside a small schooner, and that the schooner was anchored in a little cove which was surrounded on all sides by a dense wall of trees and bushes. He did not have time to make any further observations, for his captors, who seemed to be in a great hurry to dispose of him, assisted him rather roughly out of the boat to the deck of the vessel, dragged him down a hatchway, and thrusting him into a little locker, left him to his meditations.
Bayard Bell did not sleep a wink that night, but tossed uneasily on his bed, thinking over his plans, and waiting impatiently for daylight. He had heard of such things as smuggling vessels, and was anxious to see one; and, more than that, he wanted to know how Walter Gaylord would look bound hand and foot, and what he would say when he learned that he was to be carried away from his home and put where he would never find his way back to it again.