ur hearts. Perchance, even yet, we should
awake some fellow-creature from the nameless sleep in the woods whose
beauty veiled the living death.

Now, I say that Czerny's men were firing rifle-shots at the anchored
schooner, and that sound was a true chantey for our ears. What eyes
would they have for us when their salvation lay aboard the yacht? We
were nothing to them; the ship was all. And, be sure, we did not go
unwatched or helpless. Behind us, at the gate we had left, our gun
showed its barrel like the fang of a slipped hound. Cunning hands were
there, brave fellows who followed us in their hearts, while we crossed
the basin swiftly and drew near the terrible shore. If we had seen the
sun for the last time, then so be it, we said. It is not a seaman's way
to cry at danger. His word is "must," and in a sure purpose lies his
salvation.

We made the island at the westward end that we might have a clear sheet
of water between Czerny's boats and our own; and we so set our course
that our gun could sweep the intervening seas if any eye detected us.
The land was low-lying towards the west and marshy; yet, strange to be
told, the fog lay light upon it. It had been planned between us that
Captain Nepeen and I should go ashore while the others held the boat.
We carried revolvers in our hands, but no other arms. The death-fog was
our true defence; and against that each man wore the respirator that
Duncan Gray had made for him. Sleep might be our lot, but it would come
upon us slowly.

"It will be straight for the woods, captain," said I, "and all our
heart go with us. Your friends, who were put ashore last night, will
never stray far from the beach, believe me. We'll search the foreshore
and leave the rest to chance. As for going under, we sha'n't think of
that. It would never do to begin by being afraid of it."

He answered readily enough that he had never thought of such a thing.

"Where you lead, there I follow, Captain Begg," said he. "I shall not
be far behind you, rely upon it."

"And me not far from the shore when it's 'bout ship and home again,"
chimes in Peter Bligh. "God go with you, captain, for you are a brave
man entirely!"

I laughed at their notion of it, and went a little way up the beach.
The respirator about my mouth, charged with some chemical substance I
did not know the use of, permitted me to breathe at first with some
ease. And what was more extraordinary was this, that while in the woods
the f