was certainly not
afraid, he could not help being aware that the life he had found so
pleasant and so cheerful, and to which he had so many ties, was slipping
away from him. The courage of an older man might well have given way.
Jack sighed deeply, but his courage did not give way, for he said to
himself, "God's will be done." In that feeling was his strength and
support. "I am in God's hand, He will preserve me if He thinks fit."

On drifted the schooner. The current, strengthened by the additional
stream, grew more rapid. The vessel kept in mid-channel. He might have
gained nothing had she verged on either side, unless he could have got
near enough to catch hold of a stout branch of some mangrove bush, where
he might have hung on to it till the boat came by, when, should anybody
see him, he might be rescued, otherwise a lingering and painful death
would be his lot, instead of the speedy one he had every reason to
expect. The roar of the breakers on the bar sounded mournfully on his
ears. He could see the white surf dancing less high above the sandbank,
and he knew that in a few minutes he must be among those roaring,
hissing, raging breakers. He thought that he could see the white sails
of the brig in the offing, but she was much too far off to render him
the slightest assistance. There was, he thought, one chance more. The
current might set against the sandspit which crossed its course, and if
so, he might be washed on shore. He watched eagerly to ascertain if any
logs or branches floating down took that direction. There was nothing
to give him assurance of this. For a minute he thought that she was
going towards the spit, but the current again seized her, and whirling
her round, sent her driving rapidly onwards towards the boiling
breakers. Jack felt the wreck rise and fall. He clutched firmly hold
of the keel, useless as he believed it to be. The foaming waters
sounded in his ears, the foam washed over him, and he knew that he was
on that terrible bar, in the midst of the raging breakers.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

ADVENTURES ON SHORE.

While Jack Rogers, with Lieutenant Evans and his unfortunate boat's
crew, took the southern branch of the river, Mr Hemming, with Murray
and Adair, pulled away in the boat up the northern channel, each party
believing that they were following the track of the schooner of which
they were in search. On dashed Lieutenant Hemming's boat, the crew, as
British seamen alw