then," roared Archy, "come on!"

"Hurrah!" cried the men wildly; and Archy dashed forward, but was thrown
back, and had to retreat, as a fresh keg exploded and added to the size
of the pool, now almost a river of fire many yards wide.

"It's now or never!" cried Archy frantically, and he rushed into the
blue flames, which leaped about his feet and up as if to lick his face.

A dozen strides, splashing up blue fire at every step, and he was
through it, and where a faint current of cold air seemed to be meeting
him.

Almost as he reached the farther side, the men came leaping and yelling
after him, to stand beating the tongues of fire from their feet and
legs.

_Bang_--_bang_--a couple more explosions, and the men crowded up to
Archy, the master included, as if to ask what next.

"Are you all here?"

"Ay, ay, sir."

"And that boy?"

"I'm here," cried Ram. "Quick, before they all go off."

"Yes," said Archy. "Forward!"

He led the way into the darkness once more, but into an atmosphere which
he could breathe. Then up the familiar way, with its rugged steps, and
on to the newly mortared wall, with its loophole, through which the
glorious light of day streamed.

"Now, my lads, cutlasses here. That wall's new. Four of you work, and
loosen the stones, the others take them and throw them back below."

The men cheered, and, headed by Mr Gurr and Dick, worked as they had
never worked before.

The stones were hard to move at first, but it was child's play compared
to the toil through which the young midshipman had gone when he attacked
the wall. First one yielded, then another, and, as they were dragged
out, the men cheered, and passed them back to those down the rough
steps.

With every stone removed, hope strengthened the little party; but as the
explosions followed fast, and the flames began to flicker and play up
the passage in which they were penned, Archy closed his eyes for a few
moments to mutter a prayer, for his thoughts were getting wild.

Just then, he knew that some one else thought as he did, for a hand
touched his arm, and a voice whispered,--

"It wasn't my fault. It must have been Jemmy Dadd. I say--case they
can't make a way out in time--shake hands once, mate. I do like you."

Something like a hysterical sob burst from the young midshipman's breast
at this; and, facing death as he was just then,--a horrible death which
might follow at any moment,--the lad's hand grasped that of h