shirt. The exasperated Thorwald attempted
to seize him by the neck and shake him, but Corrie flung his jacket in
his face, and sprang down the beach like a squirrel. He had wisdom
enough, however, to say and do all this in the quietest possible manner;
and when he entered the sea he did so with as much caution as Gascoyne
himself had done, insomuch that he seemed to melt away like a
mischievous sprite.

In a few minutes he was alongside of the Foam; caught a rope that was
thrown to him, and quickly stood on the deck.

"Well done, Corrie. Clamber over the stern, and slide down by that rope
into the little boat that floats there. Take one of the oars, which you
will find muffled, and scull to the shore, and bring off Thorwald and
his men. And, hark'ee, boy, bring off my shirt and boots. Now, look
alive; your friend Henry Stuart's life may depend on it."

"Henry's life!" exclaimed Corrie, in amazement.

"Come, no questions. His life may depend on your promptitude."

Corrie wanted no stronger motive for speed. In a state of surprise
mingled with anxious forebodings, he leaped over the stern and was gone
in a moment.

The distance between the shore and the schooner being very short, the
boat was quickly alongside, and the party under stout Ole Thorwald took
possession of their prize.

Meanwhile Gascoyne had set the jib and fore-topsail, which latter had
been left hanging loose from the yard, so that by hauling out the sheets
slowly and with great care, the thing was done without noise. The cable
was then cut, the boat manned, and the Foam glided out of the bay like a
phantom ship.

The moment she got beyond the shelter of the palms her sails filled, and
in a few minutes she was rushing through the water at the rate of ten or
eleven knots an hour.

Gascoyne stood at the helm and guided her through the intricacies of
the dangerous coast with consummate skill, until he reached the bay
where the wrecked ship lay. Here he lay to, and sent the boat ashore for
the party that had been left at the tent. They were waiting; anxiously
for his return. Great, therefore, was their astonishment when he sent
them a message inviting them to go on board the Foam!

The instant they embarked, Gascoyne put about, and, ordering the
mainsail to be hoisted, and one of the reefs to be shaken out of the
topsail, ran round to the windward of the island, with the foam flying
in great masses on either side of the schooner, which lay over so