per in command.

"Where are Mr Fortescue and Mr Copplestone?" demanded the captain,
looking about him, as soon as the first momentary bustle was over.

"Here I am, sir," answered I, stepping forward and mechanically touching
my hat; and "Here I am, sir," answered Tom Copplestone, suddenly
appearing from nowhere in particular.

"Mr Fortescue," ordered the captain, "take to your heels and run out to
Mr Nugent as fast as you can; ascertain from him the reason for the
firing from his party; ask him whether he requires any assistance; and
then return to me with his reply as quickly as possible. Mr
Copplestone, you will run down to the boats with a similar message to
Mr Marline."

Away we both went, as fast as we could lay legs to the ground,
Copplestone down-hill toward the river beach, and I along the sand spit,
making upward gradually toward the ridge as I ran. Running in that
fine, heavy sand was, however, horribly exhausting work, especially to
one whose only mode of taking exercise was to stump the lee side of the
quarter-deck during his watch, and I was soon so completely blown that,
with the best will in the world to hurry, I was brought to walking pace.
But before I had made twenty fathoms from my starting-point two more
shots rang out from the party by the boats, and a moment later one of
the boat guns began to speak. I looked out over the river, striving to
discover what the disturbance was about, and thought I could dimly make
out several dark blurs on the faintly shimmering surface of the water,
which I conjectured must be canoes, but I could not be sure; meanwhile
my business was not with them, whatever they were, but with Nugent and
his party, from whom, as I struggled along, two more musket-shots
cracked out almost simultaneously. Then, down by the river-side, a
second shot roared from a boat gun, and this time before the ringing
report of the piece died away I distinctly heard a crash followed by
loud shrieks and much splashing out somewhere on the surface of the
river. A few seconds later, panting and gasping for breath, I staggered
up to a figure which I had made out standing upright and motionless on
the crest of the spit, and found it to be Nugent, with his drawn sword
tucked under his right arm while with both hands he held his night glass
to his eye.

"Who goes there?" he demanded sharply, wheeling round and seizing his
sword as he heard the noise of my panting behind him.

"Friend!" I answ