So I sent Cludde back to Uncle Moses to bid him
ride back to the house and bring up, afoot or on horseback, a great
force of the negroes of the estate, with whatever arms they could
find. I reckoned (but wrongly, as it proved) that curiosity, the
courage of numbers, and their common hatred of Vetch, would
outweigh their dread of bugaboos, and bring them at once.
When Cludde had departed on this errand, I sat by the edge of the
cliff, waiting with scant patience for the slow sinking moon to
disappear. At last it was gone; all around was darkness and
silence, save for the washing of the tide and the rustling of the
trees in the wind. I stripped off my coat, left it with my cutlass
on the grass, and, taking my knife between my teeth, crept into the
water and struck out towards the brig. I swam silently; indeed, I
had little need to exert myself, for the tide carried me in the
direction I would go. And so, with a few minutes, I came safely
under the vessel's side.
I heard voices on the deck above me, and though I could not catch
what was said, I distinguished Vetch's clear, high-pitched tones.
Doubtless the crew were keeping a careful watch on the shore, but
very likely they had heard the crashing of my horse when he fell,
and Vetch might be flattering himself that the beast and I had
shared the same fate and that he would set eyes on me no more. I
waited but long enough to be sure there was no uneasiness among the
crew; then, with much pains to avoid splashing, I crept close along
by the hull until I found the fore cable.
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