They Found The Negro Fisherman Waiting For Them, Smoking His Pipe In
The Stern Of His Skiff, Which Was Moored Just In Front Of His Little
Cabin.
A pick-axe and spade were lying in the bottom of the boat, with
a dark lanthorn, and a stone jug of good Dutch courage, in which honest
Sam no doubt, put even more faith than Dr. Knipperhausen in his drugs.
Thus then did these three worthies embark in their cockleshell of a
skiff upon this nocturnal expedition, with a wisdom and valor equalled
only by the three wise men of Gotham, who went to sea in a bowl. The
tide was rising and running rapidly up the Sound. The current bore them
along, almost without the aid of an oar. The profile of the town lay
all in shadow. Here and there a light feebly glimmered from some sick
chamber, or from the cabin window of some vessel at anchor in the
stream. Not a cloud obscured the deep starry firmament, the lights of
which wavered on the surface of the placid river; and a shooting
meteor, streaking its pale course in the very direction they were
taking, was interpreted by the doctor into a most propitious omen.
In a little while they glided by the point of Corlears Hook with the
rural inn which had been the scene of such night adventures. The family
had retired to rest, and the house was dark and still. Wolfert felt a
chill pass over him as they passed the point where the buccaneer had
disappeared.
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