Doubtless the schooner had appeared as an innocent trader with the proper licenses, and the slaver, having awaited its arrival, had come on ahead to the town.

He was compelled to admit the thoroughness of the plan, and the skill with which it had been carried out, but he wondered anew why so much trouble had been taken in regard to him, a mere lad.
He stood at the porthole a long time, and the wind out of the north rose steadily.

He heard its whistle and he also heard the singing of men above him.

He knew that the schooner was making great speed down the stream and that Albany and his friends were now far behind.

As the wise generally do, he resigned himself to inevitable fate, wasting no strength in impossible struggles, but waiting patiently for a better time.