passed near several boats belonging to the
Bostoners; but the fugitive drew his large Spanish hat over his brows,
and hid his well-known form and dress beneath the folds of the ample
cloak, and thus escaped detection or observation.

It was his intention to row down the bay as far as New Plymouth, where
he designed to visit Edith's parents and apprise them of all that had
befallen him; and also endeavor to prevail on Bradford to send a
vessel, as soon as the inclemency of the weather had subsided, to bring
his wife to her paternal home. He then proposed to go on with Seaton,
and any of the Plymouthers who would accompany him, and seek a
settlement further to the south, in some part of Narragansett Bay. But
this scheme was not permitted to be carried out.

Towards evening, a fresh breeze sprang up from the east; and before
sun-set it blew so violently, that Roger and his companion had the
greatest difficulty in keeping their little vessel out at sea, and
preventing its being dashed on the coral reefs that girt that 'stern
and rock-bound coast.' Manfully they wrought at the oars; but their
strength was almost exhausted, and no creek or inlet offered them a
secure refuge. Still they persevered--for it was a struggle for life!
The least remission of their toil would have placed them at the mercy
of the wind, and they must have been driven violently against the
sunken rocks.

At length, when the light of day was failing them, and they began to
give themselves up as lost, the keen eye of Roger espied an opening
through the foam-covered reef; and though it was narrow, and evidently
dangerous, he and Seaton resolved to make a desperate effort to pass
through it, and gain the smooth still waters that they knew must lie
between the rock and the shore.

They breathed a fervent and heart-felt prayer for help from above, and
then commenced the fearful contest. The moment they turned the prow of
their shallop towards the shore, the light and buoyant little vessel
darted forward, impelled by both wind and tide, and mounted like a
seabird on the rolling waves. The dashing spray fell ever it, almost
blinding its crew, and the helm no longer had power to divert its
headlong course.

'Now may He who rules the storm have pity on my Edith!' exclaimed
Roger, as he saw the fail extent of their peril, and not a fear for
himself crossed his steadfast soul. 'May the Lord of the winds and the
waves be our guide and protector, or the next