g for the east.

"But will the men be able to row as far?" said Mark.

"They must be able, with our help, Vandean. To be plain, my lad, it is
our only chance."

"But through this heat?"

"They will suffer less rowing than sitting still;" and giving his
orders, the men, accustomed to move smartly at the slightest word,
sprang into their places, but directly after there was a low whispering
and muttering among them, and they appeared to be making a communication
to Dance the coxswain.

"What's the matter, my lads?" cried the lieutenant sharply; and he
forgot his own sufferings now that there was a sudden call made upon his
energy.

"Tell the lufftenant, Joe Dance," said Fillot, who was nearest to where
his officers sat, but who preferred to pass task on to the coxswain, who
was farthest off.

"Why couldn't yer tell him yersen?" growled the coxswain.

"Speak out, Dance. No nonsense, my lad. We are in difficulties, and we
have to behave like British seamen till we get out of them."

The coxswain took off his well-dried straw hat and saluted. Then
coughed, hesitated, and at last blurted out--"Well, sir, you see it's
like this. The lads says they're willing enough, and they'll pull till
they drop, but they want to know if you don't think it's time something
was done about him as we come to pick up."

"Leave that to me, my lads," said the lieutenant, gravely. "I shall do
my duty by you all, so please to do yours by me. Wait till nightfall
and see."

"Ay, ay, sir," came huskily, the oars dropped into the water, and to
Mark there was quite a feeling of relief in the motion of the boat, and
also in the knowledge that they were moving--slowly enough, but surely--
toward help. Whether they would live to reach that aid was another
thing.

"Shall we take an oar each, Mr Russell?" said Mark after a time, during
which he had sat watching the dispirited, weary looks of the men as they
dragged more and more slowly at their rowing.

"No, my lad; we can do nothing in this heat. The poor fellows can do
very little good themselves; I am only letting them pull because it
keeps them from sinking into a state of despair. They can leave off
when they like, and row when they like."

The men heard his words and ceased pulling for a few minutes to gaze
blankly round in search of help, but the shining, sunny haze shut them
in, and Tom Fillot settled himself in his seat again.

"Better pull, mates," he said, in a harsh,