might retire under cover of the night. At all events, the lugger could
not be abandoned without an enemy in sight, and the people were again
called to the bars for a renewed effort. As water might be obtained at a
hundred points on the coast, and the distance to Corsica was so small,
the last gallon had been started and pumped out, during the
recent pause.

Our hero felt that this was the final effort. The hold of le Feu-Follet
was literally empty, and all her spare spars were floating among the
rocks. If she could not be started now, he did not possess the means to
get her off. The anchor held; the cable, though stretched to the utmost,
stood; and every creature but himself was at the bars. The ground-swell
had been lessening all the morning, and little aid was now to be had
from the rising of the water. Still, that little must be obtained;
without it, the task seemed hopeless.

"Get ready, men," cried Raoul, as he paced the taffrail, "and heave at
the word. We will wait for a swell, then strain every nerve till
something part. _Pas encore, mes enfans--pas encore!_ Stand by!--Yonder
comes a fellow who will lift us--heave a strain--heave harder--heave,
body and soul!--heave, altogether!"

The men obeyed. First they hove a gentle strain; then the effort was
increased; and, obedient to the order, just as the ground-swell rolled
under the lugger's bottom, they threw out their utmost strength, and the
hull started for the first time. This was encouraging, though the
movement did not exceed six inches. It was a decided movement, and was
made in the right direction. This success nerved the people to an
increased effort. It was probable that, at the next strain, they would
throw a tenth more impetus into their muscles. Of all this Raoul was
aware, and he determined not to let the feeling flag.

"_Encore, mes enfans!_" he said. "Heave, and get ready! Be
watchful--now's your time! Heave, and rip the planks off the lugger's
bottom--heave, men, heave!"

This time the effort answered the emergency; the swell rolled in, the
men threw out their strength, a surge was felt, it was followed up by a
strain, and le Feu-Follet shot off her bed into deep water, rolling, for
want of ballast, nearly to her hammock-cloths. She soon lay directly
over her anchor.

Here was success!--triumphant success; and that at a moment when the
most sanguine had begun to despair. The men embraced each other, showing
a hundred manifestations of extra