Sanchez don't stand fer thet talk, an' he's back o' LeVere.

Let's go in; them gaskets will hold all right now--cum 'long." The two vaguely distinguishable figures disappeared, clambering awkwardly over the rail, and as instantly vanishing into the blackness of the bark's deck.

An unsecured bit of canvas continued to flap noisily above me, and the constant surge of water pounded against the bow, but I could perceive now clearly the character I was destined to assume when once safely aboard the _Namur_.

Such an assumption would involve but slight danger of discovery.

It was as though a miracle had opened the way, revealed to me by the unconscious lips of these two half-drunken, gossiping sailors.