Meanwhile, the fisher-boy lay upon the sofa in the cabin, where Friday and Jack Spaniard had left him, listening to the noise of the storm, and wondering how many chances there were in a thousand that he would ever return to Newport. Again and again had he made the most desperate but unsuccessful efforts to free himself from his bonds, and finally, becoming wearied with his exertions, and discouraged by his failures, he settled back on the sofa, and awaited the destruction of the vessel with all the fortitude he could command.

Occasionally he heard the students moving about in their prison, and now and then the door would shake and bend, as if the boys were trying to force it from its hinges. Bob watched and listened, hoping that they would discover some way of effecting their escape; but the door, like every thing else about the yacht, had been made at Mr. Graves' ship-yard, and it was "first-class." It resisted all their efforts, and at last, the students, like Bob, became discouraged, and sat down to talk the matter over.

Harry Green was in great trouble. At his own request he had been placed in command of the guard of the yacht, and now, scarcely more than three hours after he assumed charge of the vessel, she had been taken from him. Since he had worked out the punishment that had been inflicted upon him for taking part in Tom's runaway scheme, he had been one of the most diligent students at the academy. He was working with an object in view, and that was, to distance the lieutenant-colonel at the next examination. As far as his lessons were concerned, he was already ahead of him in every thing except navigation; and he had resolved, that, by the end of the next quarter, he would lead his class in that study also. But his knowledge of books was not the only thing that would be inquired into. His conduct as an officer—as captain of company A, and first lieutenant of the Storm King, would be severely criticised, and especially the manner in which he executed the orders of his superiors. In his military record, Harry was confident that he could show a clean score; but there was every prospect that his career as a naval lieutenant would be brought to a speedy termination. Colonel Steele, in his capacity as a ranking naval officer, had given him written instructions to hold the yacht at all hazards in case an assault should be made upon her, and to bring every one of the attacking party prisoners to the academy. Harry had failed to obey these orders, and he was a candidate for a court-martial. The other officers of the guard were in the same predicament, and so were the seamen. They all had rivals at the academy, who were working hard to remove them from their positions on board the yacht, and it was no wonder that they looked upon the result of the battle as the greatest calamity that could have befallen them. They had lost their vessel, and, although there was not one among them who believed that they could be blamed for that, they felt rather serious, when they reflected that they would be called upon to prove this to the colonel's satisfaction. Could they not wipe out the disgrace, and insure their acquittal before the court-martial, by turning the tables on their enemies? The first lieutenant thought they could, but he did not know how to do it. He groped his way to the door—for the hold was so dark that he could not see his hand before him—threw himself against it with all his strength, and then called some of his crew to his assistance; but it was all in vain. They were prisoners, and such they would probably remain until their captors saw fit to release them.

"What in the name of sense do you suppose Tom Newcombe intends to do with us, and with the yacht?" was a question that the first lieutenant had asked perhaps twenty times, and which none of the crew could answer. They knew that Tom was very angry because his father had presented the Storm King to the principal of the academy, instead of giving it to him, and they were also well aware that that was one reason why he had seized the vessel. But they had never heard a word about the Crusoe band, and, consequently, they could not imagine where Tom was going, or why he kept company with Sam Barton and his band of outlaws. This matter had been talked over until every boy in the crew had expressed an opinion; and the only conclusion at which they arrived was, that Tom had got another of his wild ideas into his head, and that he would be certain, sooner or later, to get them and every body else on board the yacht into serious trouble.

"I have been with Newcombe on one runaway expedition," said Harry, "and I shall regret it as long as I live. I don't want to go with him on another, especially if he is to command the vessel."

"Neither do I," said one of the midshipmen—another old Night-hawk. "But how shall we get away from him? that's the question! If we could only take him and all the members of his society to the academy as prisoners, wouldn't it be——I'll tell you what it is, fellows," he added, as the sloop gave a tremendous lurch, which threw all the students into a heap in one corner of the hold, "if we don't get on deck very soon, and take charge of this craft, she's bound to go to the bottom."

The wild plunging of the vessel, the noise of the waves washing against her sides, and the sound of hurrying feet on the deck overhead, sent a thrill of terror to the heart of every boy in the hold. They knew that their captors had succeeded in getting the yacht under way, but they did not fully realize their danger until one of the students, who was steadying himself by holding on to the mast, which ran up through the hold, exclaimed:

"Fellows, Newcombe has hoisted some of the canvas, and is trying to sail out of the harbor in the face of this gale. Just put your hands on the mast, and see how it quivers!"

As if they were acting under orders, the crew made a rush for the after end of the hold, and commenced another furious attack upon the door, but with no other effect than to increase their alarm. There was no possible chance for escape. Both doors were securely fastened, the hatch overhead was battened down, and when the yacht was capsized or sunk—an event which they all believed to be not far distant—nothing on earth could save them.

"Fellows—" began the first lieutenant.

What he was about to say the boys never knew, for he was interrupted in his speech by a shout from one of the crew, who had been crawling about the hold on his hands and knees.

"Hurrah for me!" shouted the student. "Where's the lieutenant? I have been lucky enough to find a handspike."

"Pass it over here!" said Harry, in an excited voice. "Stand by, now, and the moment I burst the door open, make a rush, and don't stop until the vessel is ours. We must take charge of the yacht before Newcombe gets her into the bay, and we've no time to lose. Keep still, fellows! Somebody is outside the door!"

The boys held their breath in suspense, and crouched, like so many tigers, ready for a spring. Some one was certainly busy with the lock. After a delay that seemed an age to the students, the key turned, the door opened, and the next moment Tom Newcombe was knocked clear across the cabin, by a blow from the pillow, in the hands of the tall student, who was the first to spring into the cabin.

"That was a lucky haul, fellows!" exclaimed the first lieutenant. "We've got the old boy himself. Secure him at once."

Harry, of course, did not know that Tom had released him and his crew intentionally, and perhaps it would have made no difference to him if he had. Like all the rest of the students, he looked upon Tom as a very dangerous fellow, and he was resolved to capture him, even if by so doing the other members of the band were allowed an opportunity to escape. In obedience to the order, half a dozen students threw themselves upon him, and Tom, stunned by the blow from the pillow, and astonished at the roughness with which he was handled, did not fairly recover the use of his tongue until he found himself securely bound and confined in one of the state-rooms—the apartment that had been intended for the captain of the vessel, and which he had expected to occupy under very different circumstances.

The fisher-boy lay upon the sofa a delighted witness of all that took place; but, although the lamp was burning brightly, and he was in plain sight, the students were so excited, and so fully occupied in securing possession of their weapons, and disposing of their prisoner, that they were not aware of his presence until he aroused them by saying—"Now, perhaps you will be kind enough to release me!"

Of course the students were kind enough to do it, and they did do it as soon as they had satisfied themselves that he was not a member of Tom's band. He was not required to enter into any lengthy explanation, for the first lieutenant was in a great hurry to finish the work so well begun; and, besides, the fact that the fisher-boy was bound hand and foot, was sufficient evidence that he had not assisted in the capture of the vessel, and that he had been brought there against his will.

"No time to talk, fellows," said the first lieutenant. "How many of them are there, Jennings?"

"Only five, now that Tom is a prisoner," replied Bob, picking up the spear that the governor had used during the fight, and making some feeble attempts to stand on his feet.

"Only five!" repeated Harry, in astonishment. "Eighteen fellows whipped in a fair fight by one-third of their number! Boys, I think this will be our first and last cruise in the Storm King. That is bad evidence to be brought up against us."

"But it wasn't a fair fight," said one of the crew. "They were armed and we were not."

"Well, they whipped us, anyhow," said the lieutenant, "and now we must whip them. Stand by to board with a loud cheer! Board!"

The students, yelling at the top of their lungs, sprang up the ladder, and gained the deck without meeting any of the enemy. The members of the Crusoe band were so fully occupied in navigating the vessel, that they had not noticed Tom's absence from the deck, and the noise of the storm had drowned all sounds of what had been going on in the cabin.

When the first lieutenant reached the top of the ladder, he stopped, appalled by the scene presented to his gaze. The storm was increasing in fury every moment, the lightning flashed almost incessantly, rendering objects about the harbor as plainly visible as if it had been daylight, and the wind howled as fiercely as ever. By some streak of luck which the lieutenant could not understand, and which would not have attended him again had he attempted the same feat, Xury had succeeded in piloting the vessel safely through the harbor; and when the students reached the deck, she was on the point of entering the bay.

Harry had witnessed many a tempest, both at sea and on shore, and as he began to regard himself as quite an accomplished sailor, he was disposed to make light of storms that were really terrific. But he had nothing to say about this one. He had never seen such waves in Newport Bay, neither had he ever seen a vessel so badly handled as was the Storm King. The mainsail, close reefed, was the only canvas hoisted, but that was altogether too much for her; besides, Xury was becoming frightened, and managed the wheel with very unsteady hands. Sometimes the sail would feel the full force of the gale, and the yacht would roll down almost to her beam ends; then Xury would "luff" until the sail was shaking in the wind, when he would fill away again. Harry took this all in at a glance. He dared not hesitate long, for he saw the necessity of prompt action.

"Richardson!" he shouted, turning to one of the midshipmen, "take two men to the wheel, and put her about at once. Forward! and clear the deck of these pirates."

"Hallo, here!" exclaimed the governor, who just then happened to glance toward the companion-way. "Here they are, fellers! Down with the 'cademy swells!"

But the chief's battle-cry failed to produce any effect upon his crew. The lightning showed them that the students had recovered their weapons, and that was enough to convince them that their voyage was at an end. Besides, they were not allowed time to make up their minds whether to fight or surrender, for the students, led by Harry, rushed forward in a body, and in a moment every member of the Crusoe band, except the governor, was a prisoner. The latter caught up a hand-spike, and stood his ground long enough to see his men overpowered, one after the other, when he dropped his weapon and sprang upon the bowsprit, where he was followed by half a dozen of the students.

"Surrender, Sam Barton!" exclaimed the foremost. "Your cruise is up, now."

"Not much, I won't surrender," replied the chief, desperate to the last. "Better not come too near me!"

The students, not in the least intimidated by this last remark, which implied that he intended to resist all their efforts to capture him, continued to follow the chief, who, having retreated as far as he could toward the end of the bowsprit, suddenly arose to his feet. "Down with the 'cademy swells!" he shouted, shaking his fist at his pursuers.

For an instant he stood with his arms spread out, balancing himself on the bowsprit, and then, with another wild cry, he sprang into the air and disappeared under the bow of the yacht, which, by this time, had been put about, and was booming along up the harbor at a terrific rate. A cry of horror arose from all who had witnessed this last act of the chief, and while one hurried off to report the matter to the lieutenant, the others ran aft to watch for him as he arose under the stern. But not one of those students ever saw Sam Barton again. By the time they reached the stern, the yacht had left the spot where he disappeared a long way behind, and they were as powerless to assist him as if he had been in mid-ocean. The chief, in his desperation, preferred to trust himself to the waves, rather than in the hands of the students; and, whatever other dangers he might have run into, he was safe from the clutches of Mr. Grimes. But this incident, exciting as it was, was soon forgotten. The students had other things to think of, and the governor's reckless courage ceased to be the topic of conversation.

The first lieutenant had his hands full. He was filled with apprehension and trembling with anxiety for the safety of his vessel and crew, but he did not forget his prisoners, who, being taken in charge by a guard detailed for that purpose, were marched down into the hold and locked up.

The sail up the harbor was attended with quite as much, if not more, danger than the coming down had been. The first lieutenant had too much at stake to run any risks, and as soon as the crew could be got together—for, in the excitement attending the battle, and the escape from the hold, all discipline had been forgotten—he ordered the sail taken in. This was speedily accomplished, and then the yacht drifted helplessly about on the waves. But her speed, of course, was greatly diminished, and the danger attending a collision, if one occurred, was diminished in the same proportion. Harry's next care was, to send one of the midshipmen to get the spare anchor up from the hold. This was an operation of some difficulty. The anchor was weighty, and the first lieutenant was the only one on board who understood the management of heavy bodies, and he could not leave the deck. Only a part of the crew engaged in executing this order. The others were kept on deck, holding themselves in readiness to "fend off," if there should be danger of running into any of the vessels at the wharves. The yacht drifted along, sometimes stern foremost, sometimes sideways, but generally keeping near the middle of the harbor, and, by the time the midshipman came aft, to report the anchor ready, they were within a short distance of the place from which they started on their involuntary cruise.