By this means he was enabled to draw a full breath, and then, causing himself to sink, he swam under water to the other side of the schooner, and rose under her quarter.
Here he paused a minute to breathe, then glided with noiseless strokes to the main chains, which he seized hold of, and, under their shelter, listened intently for at least five minutes.
Not a sound was to be heard on board save the footsteps of the solitary watchman who slowly paced the deck, and now and then beguiled the tedium of his vigil by humming a snatch of a sea song.
Gascoyne now felt assured that the crew were ashore, enjoying themselves, as they were wont to do, in one of the artificial caverns where their goods were concealed.

He knew, from his own former experience, that they felt quite secure when once at anchor in the harbor of the Isle of Palms; it was therefore probable that all of them had gone ashore except this man, who had been left to take care of the vessel.
Gascoyne now drew himself slowly up into the chains, and remained there for a few seconds in a stooping position, keeping his head below the level of the bulwarks while he squeezed the water out of his lower garments.

This done, he waited until the man on deck came close to where he stood, when he sprang on him with the agility of a tiger, threw him down, and placed his hand on his mouth.
"It will be your wisest course to be still, my man," said Gascoyne, sternly.

"You know who I am, and you know what I can do when occasion requires.

If you shout when I remove my hand from your mouth, you die." The man seemed to be quite aware of the hopelessness of his case; for he quietly submitted to have his mouth bound with a handkerchief, and his hands and feet tied with cords.