at the head of the sea-stairway, looking down.

Below is a boat with men in it--half-a-score of them--seated on the
thwarts, some lolling over against the gunwales asleep. At a glance he
can tell them to be _Crusaders_.

His hail startles them into activity; one and all recognising the voice
of their old shipmate.

"Quick!" he cries; "quick, mates! This way, and along with me! Don't
stay to ask questions. Enough for you to know that the lives of your
officers are in danger."

It proves enough. The tars don't wait for a word more; but spring from
their recumbent attitude, and out of the boat.

Rushing up the pier steps, they cluster around their comrade. They have
not needed instructions to arm themselves. Harry's speech, with its
tone, told of some shore hostility, and they have instinctively made
ready to meet it; each laying hold of the weapon nearest to his hand;
some a knife, some an oar, others a boat-hook.

"Heave with me, lads!" cries Harry; and they "heave"--at his heels--
rushing after, as if to extinguish a fire in the forecastle.

Soon they are coursing along the strand, towards the upturned boat,
silently, and without asking explanation. If they did, they could not
get it; for their leader is panting, breathless, almost unable to utter
a word. But five issue from his throat, jerked out disjointedly, and in
hoarse utterance. They are:

"Crozier--Cadwallader--waylaid--robbers--murderers!"

Enough to spur the _Crusaders_ to their best speed, if _not_ already at
it. But they are; every man of them straining his strength to the
utmost.

As they rush on, cleaving the thick fog, Harry at their head listens
intently. As yet he can distinguish no sound to alarm him; only the
monotonous swashing of the sea, and the murmur of distant voices in the
streets of the town. But no cries--no shouts, nor shots; nothing to
tell of deadly strife.

"Thank the Lord!" says the brave sailor, half speaking to himself;
"we'll be in time to save them."

The words have scarce passed from his lips, when he comes in sight of
the capsized launch; and almost simultaneously sees two figures upon the
beach beyond. They are of human shape, but through the fog looking
grand as giants.

He is not beguiled by the deception; he knows it to be the two officers,
their forms magnified by the mist. No others are likely to be coming
that way; for he can see they are approaching; and, as can be told by
their careless, swa