Occasionally, Barnstable would cast an inquiring
glance at the little inlets that they passed, or would note, with a
seaman's eye, the small portions of sandy beach that were scattered here
and there along the rocky boundaries of the coast. One in particular, a
deeper inlet than common, where a run of fresh water was heard gurgling
as it met the tide, he pointed out to his cockswain, by significant but
silent gestures, as a place to be especially noted. Tom, who understood
the signal as intended for his own eye alone, made his observations on
the spot with equal taciturnity, but with all the minuteness that would
distinguish one long accustomed to find his way, whether by land or
water, by landmarks and the bearings of different objects. Soon after
this silent communication between the lieutenant and his cockswain, the
boat was suddenly turned, and was in the act of dashing upon the spit of
sand before it, when Barnstable checked the movement by his voice:
"Hold water!" he said; "'tis the sound of oars!"
The seamen held their boat at rest, while a deep attention was given to
the noise that had alarmed the ears of their commander.
"See, sir," said the cockswain, pointing towards the eastern horizon;
"it is just rising into the streak of light to seaward of us--now it
settles in the trough--ah! here you have it again!"
"By heavens!" cried Barnstable, "'tis a man-of-war's stroke it pulls; I
saw the oar-blades as they fell! and, listen to the sound! neither your
fisherman nor your smuggler pulls such a regular oar.
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