and stowed it away."

"All right. I missed it, and thought some dock thief had stolen it."

The shrewd course of Captain Brown, in making Jacques Bernoux a handsome present for his past services, and thus attaching him to his interests, was now evident. Jacques was not merely a fisherman, but also a pilot, and thoroughly acquainted with the coast all along the shores of the Gulf of Lyons, and especially between Toulon and Marseilles. Along some portions of the gulf the land is low, and there are many lagoons, separated by narrow portions of land, into which the sea is forced by storms; but towards Toulon the shores are bolder, and the land broken into many rocky heights and promontories, intersected by creeks and coves. With every one of these Jacques was thoroughly acquainted, as he had been a smuggler before his marriage.

All the passage Captain Brown was studying the charts of the French coast, and obtaining information from Jacques in respect to it.

Arthur Brown had no ordinary foes to deal with. Lord Hood was in command of the Mediterranean fleet, with orders to take all vessels, of whatever nation, attempting to enter Marseilles or Toulon, and under him was Nelson, in the Agamemnon, sixty-four guns—a very fast ship, that is, for an English ship. It was merely a question of shrewdness and seamanship, as the Arthur Brown was unarmed, and could not resist.

In order to pass the time at sea, Jacques frequently told stories in relation to his expeditions with the smugglers, and, among other things, described a cove where he had often aided to land cargoes of smuggled goods, and which was singularly adapted for concealment.

The captain listened attentively, but, at the conclusion of the story, merely remarked that it must be a curious place.

It was the middle of an afternoon, and the vessel well in with the land, when they made a sail, which Jacques, after looking at it a long time with the glass, declared to be Nelson's ship.

"I don't care who she is," said the captain; "she's dead to leeward. She can't catch us, and we can dodge her in the night."

The wind was blowing a wholesale breeze, and fair.

"Jacques," said the captain, laying his hand on the pilot's shoulder, "do you remember that singular cove you were telling about a fortnight ago?"

"The oven, sir?"

"That's it. Could you take a vessel in there in the night?"

"Yes, captain, night or day. I know it as well as I know the way to my berth."

"It is bright starlight; the wind is fair, and plenty of it. Put this vessel in there before daylight, and I'll make it the best night's work you ever did in your life."

"I can take you in, captain; but remember it is an oven. If any of the fleet see you, you are gone."

"I'll take the risk."

With a spanking breeze, and every inch of canvas spread that would draw, the swift vessel sped on her way, and long before daybreak was under the shadow of the land, with her studding-sails and all her square-sails taken in.

The entrance was so narrow that two vessels could not have gone in abreast, while high bluffs and overhanging foliage made it as black as a wolf's mouth. The ship's company held their breath. The vessel seemed rushing on to certain destruction; but, as she rounded a high bluff, the wind was left behind, and, after running twice her length into a calm basin, Jacques ordered the anchor let go, and she was brought up.

"There, captain," said Jacques, "I've put you into a harbor where no wind can touch you, and about half way between Marseilles and Toulon. The rest is your affair."

"How much of this vessel, lying here, could be seen from a passing ship?"

"A vessel of this size, nothing below the top-mast-head. Besides, men-of-war don't care to come in here. There are batteries on the shore a mile from this, each way. If they thought of looking, they couldn't see so small a spar as this vessel's topgallant-mast without a glass."

The morning light revealed a most singular place. On the starboard hand, a rugged promontory, covered with a thick growth of pine and fir, mixed with oak and ash, rose perpendicularly from the sea. The other, and port side of the entrance, was formed by a small island, its extremity, like that of the other point, terminating in a long, rocky, and wooded bluff, but of less height. (Perhaps some of our young readers may have noticed, and thought strange, that seamen never say, "Put the helm to larboard," or speak of the larboard side of a vessel, but say, "Port the helm," "Hard a-port," or, "Hard down." Port is a military term borrowed from the French, an abbreviation of "Porta la timone," meaning, "Carry the helm to the left," because soldiers, when they port arms, carry the pieces to the left.)

The inner extremity of this island, where it approached the main land, "locked by" (as the seamen say) another wooded point of the main shore, affording between them only a shallow and tortuous passage for small boats. The position of these two points completely intercepted the view of the harbor from the sea. It was only from the main shore that it was possible to look into it through the passage between the points.

It must be evident to our young readers that the captain of the brigantine could only hope to escape capture, or at least the loss of vessel and cargo, by concealment. In entering this oven, he had completely cut himself off from all chance of flight, since, should the enemy discover him, a man-o'-war's crew might easily enter, and tow the vessel out or set her on fire.

On the other hand, if undiscovered, he was in a safe harbor; the cargo, in case of necessity, could be landed, and transported to Marseilles or Toulon by land; and it was sufficiently valuable to leave a handsome profit, even if the vessel was lost.

"It is best," said the captain, "to be on the safe side, especially if you have to do with English sailors, commanded by Nelson, who hates a Yankee as much as he does a Frenchman. If we had to do with Frenchmen and Spaniards, it would be another matter."

He instantly set the crew at work to send down the foretopgallant-mast and maintop-mast, with the yards. He then run a hawser to a tree, and, paying out on the cable, hauled the vessel in close under the high cliffs on the starboard hand, and, not satisfied even with this, cut branches from the trees, and lashed them to the head of the mainmast and also of the foretop-mast. It was now impossible to see the vessel from sea; and even a boat pulling along shore could not perceive her without actually entering the mouth of the oven. This was next to impossible, as man-o'-war boats, liable to be fired upon with small arms and field-pieces, were not inclined to venture near the shore without some special object, or information of some valuable prize, which might repay them for the risk. Jacques, having received a very handsome reward from the captain, went to Marseilles to see his family, and bore a message from the captain to merchants there, to whom he sold his former cargo.

CHAPTER II.
NED PROPOSES TO IMPROVE THE DIVINE PLAN.

It was the intention of Captain Brown to wait till a gale of wind scattered the blockading fleet, and, taking advantage of the opportunity thus afforded, run into Marseilles, as the distance was short, and the course along shore.

The crew, having little or nothing to do, except that they hauled the brigantine ashore, cleaned her bottom, and covered it with a fresh coat of soap and tallow, mended the sails, and overhauled the rigging, spent the time in the manner most agreeable to their own inclinations, mended and made clothes and hats, lounged, bathed, or slept. Boys so well conditioned and full of life as Walter and Ned, could not pass their time in any such way as that.

The first thing they set themselves about after the vessel's bottom was cleaned, was to make a rope ladder and fasten it to one of the lower limbs of a large,