y! Dark came on us again, chill and
windy, and the salt spray cutting at us like a whiplash.

Boo-m-m!

Big Jones stood up in the stern-sheets, swaying unsteadily. "D'ye hear
anything there? . . . Like a gun?"

A gun? Gun? . . . Nothing new! . . . We had been hearing guns,
seeing sails--in our minds--all the day! All day . . . guns . . . and
sail! Boom-m-m-m!

"Gun! Oh God . . . a gun! Capt'n, a gun, d'ye hear! Hay--Hay-H. Out
oars, there! A gun!" Hoarse in excitement Jones shook the old man and
called at his ear. "Aye, aye, b'ye. Aye, aye," said the broken old
man, seeming without understanding.

Jones ceased trying to rouse him, and, running out the steering oar,
called on us to haul the sea-anchor aboard. We lay to our oars,
listening for a further gunfire.

Whooo-o. . . . Boom-m-m.

A rocket! They were looking for us then! The pinnace must have been
picked up! A cheer--what a cheer!--came brokenly from our lips; and we
lashed furiously at the oars, steering to where a glare in the mist had
come with the last report.

Roused by the thrash of our oars, the old man sat up. "Whatt now,
b'ye? Whatt now?"

"Ship firin' rockets, sir," said Jones. "Rockets . . . no mistake."
As he spoke, another coloured streamer went flaming through the eastern
sky. "Give way, there! We'll miss her if she's running south! Give
way, all!" The glare of the rocket put heart into our broken old
skipper. "Steady now, b'yes," he said, with something of his old
enthusiasm.

We laboured steadily at the oars, but our strength was gone. The sea
too, that we had thought moderate when lying to sea-anchor, came at us
broadside on and set our light boat to a furious dance. Wave crests
broke and lashed aboard, the reeling boat was soon awash, and the spare
men had to bale frantically to keep her afloat. But terror of the ship
running south from us nerved our wearied arms, and we kept doggedly
swinging the oars. Soon we made out the vessel's sidelight--the gleam
of her starboard light, that showed that she was hauled to the wind,
not running south as we had feared. They could not see on such a
night, we had nothing to make a signal, but the faint green flame gave
us heart in our distress.

The old man, himself again, was now steering, giving us Big Jones to
bear at the oars. As we drew on we made out the loom of the vessel's
sails--a big ship under topsails only, and sailing slowly to the west.
We pulled