, but, for all Desmond knew, boats might have been
launched in pursuit, and if he was overtaken it meant lingering torture
and a fearful death. He was in a fever of impatience until at length, the
tangled shrouds having been cut away, the rowing was resumed and the two
vessels began again to creep slowly seaward.

Gradually they drew out of range of the guns. Steering straight out to
sea, Desmond had a clear view of the whole of the harbor and a long
stretch of the river. The scene was brightly lit up, and he saw that two
of the gallivats had been towed away from the burning vessels, from which
the flames were now shooting high into the air. But even on the two that
had been cut loose there were spurts of flame; and Desmond hoped that
they had sustained enough damage to make them unseaworthy.

Suddenly there were two loud explosions, in quick succession. A column of
fire rose toward the sky from the gallivats that were blazing most
brightly. The fire had at length reached the ammunition. The red sparks
sprang upwards like a fountain, casting a ruddy glow for many yards
around; then they fell back into the sea, and all was darkness, except
for the lesser lights from the burning vessels whose magazines had as yet
escaped. The explosions could hardly have occurred at a more opportune
moment, for the darkness was now all the more intense, and favored the
fugitives.

There was a brisk breeze from the southwest outside the harbor, and when
the two vessels lost the shelter of the headland they crept along even
more slowly than before. Desmond had learned enough of seamanship on
board the Good Intent to know that he must have sea room before he cast
off the gallivat and made sail northwards; otherwise he would inevitably
be driven on shore. It was this fact that had prompted his operations in
the harbor. He knew that the grabs could not put to sea unless they were
towed, and the gallivats being rendered useless, towing was impossible.

The sea was choppy, and the rowers had much ado to control the sweeps.
Only their dread of the Biluchis' knives kept them at their work. But the
progress, though slow, was steady; gradually the glow in the sky behind
the headland grew dimmer; though it was as yet impossible to judge with
certainty how much offing had been made. Desmond, resolving to give away
no chances, and being unacquainted with the trend of the coast, kept the
rowers at work, with short intervals of rest, until dawn. By th