CHAPTER VII.
THE CAPTAINS MAKE A FALSE START.
It was past midnight when Captain Runacles left his friend's pavilion and let himself through the little blue door to his own garden.
The heavens were clear and starry, and he paused for a moment on the grass-plot, his hands clasped behind him, his head tilted back and his eyes fixed on the Great Bear that hung directly overhead.
"Poor Jack!" he muttered, shaking his head at the constellation, as if gently accusing Fate.

His nature had been considerably softened by the little man's distress, and he had come away with a generous trouble in his heart.
"I shan't sleep a wink to-night," he decided; and went on inconsequently, "After all, a girl is less anxiety than a boy.
People don't find it worth their while to kidnap a girl and flog her with a cat-o'-nine-tails.

A turn of a die, and I'd have been in Jack's shoes to-night; while, as it is--" As it was, however, he seemed hardly to enjoy his good fortune, for he added, still looking up: "Plague seize it! I shan't sleep a wink--I know I shan't.

What a magnificent show of stars! Let me see, how long is it before daybreak?
One-two-three-five hours only.

I won't go to bed at all-- I'll have a turn at the telescope." He stole into the house softly and climbed up the spiral staircase.
A faint light shone out on the first landing from the half-open door of his workroom.