After the conversation had continued some
time, one of them cautiously raised his head, as if to penetrate the
gloom that enshrouded them. Satisfied that they were alone, the two
rose, and, without noise, climbed up one of the posts to the gallery
which surrounded the cabin. Then, with a light step, they passed on, and
stopped before the state-room occupied by Vernon.
"Are you sure this is his room?" asked Hatchie, in a smothered whisper.
"Troth, I am, thin," responded his companion; "but be aisy, or you'll
wake him."
"The worse for him," replied Hatchie, as his teeth ground together.
Hatchie placed his hand upon the door, and softly opened it. The sleeper
heard him not. The negro groped about the room until his hand rested
upon some pistols which lay on a trunk by the side of the berth. These
he took, and, handing two of them to Pat, retained the third in his
hand. Closing the door, they proceeded, as they had come, to the main
deck.
Seating himself behind a heap of merchandise, Hatchie proceeded to
examine the pistols by the light of a lantern which Pat had _borrowed_
from the sleeping engineers.
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