the narrow ledge and then stood like an ebony statue, peering into the gloom toward where the schooner lay some three hundred yards to windward. Presently he lowered himself into the water, knife in teeth, and set out with long, easy strokes. So far he had not made out the schooner, but after going straight into the wind for a few minutes he turned and swam parallel with the reef. Before long the dark form of the boat loomed up not far away. Without a sound he propelled his body forward, made a slight detour, and then dived as silently as a seal. Grasping the cable, he lifted his head to the surface and filled his lungs. Then he lowered himself once more and slashed at the tough manila. Twice he had to come up to breathe before the last strand gave way. Then, with the precious knife he had earned with his skill and cunning clenched again in his teeth, he paddled softly away, leaving the schooner to her fate.
