of that."

"Humph! Never mind. I think I can manage. Both of you lads give a
sharp look-out and tell me what you can see."

"Why, there's something between us and her hull," said Poole, "but I
can't quite make out what it is. Surely she isn't on a rock?"

"No," cried Fitz; "I can see. She has lowered a boat."

"Two," said the mate, in his deep hoarse voice. "I can make 'em out
now. I thought that was it at first. Pull away, my lads, for all
you're worth. Pull your port line, my lad, and let's run back. Hug the
shore as much as you can, so as to keep out of the stream. Hah! If we
had thought to bring a mast and sail and one of the other boats we could
have been back in no time with this wind astern."

The gig swung round as the men bent in their quick steady pull, and they
began to ascend the stream once more, while Fitz rose in his place, to
look back watching the half-obscured gunboat till they had swept round
the bend once more and she was out of sight, when he re-seated himself
and noticed that the mate was still standing, intent upon cautiously
taking cartridges from his pouch and thrusting them into the chambers of
the revolver which he had drawn from the holster of his belt.

This looked like business, and Fitz turned to dart an inquiring look at
his companion, who answered it with a nod.

"Well," thought Fitz, "if he thinks we are going to have a fight before
we get back, why doesn't he order his men to load?"

But it proved that the mate did not anticipate a fight before they got
back. He had other thoughts in his head, and when at last, after a long
and anxious row against the sharp current, with the lads constantly
looking back to see if the gunboat's men were within sight, they reached
the final zigzag, and caught sight of the schooner, old Burgess raised
his hand and fired three shots at the face of the towering cliff.

These three were echoed back as about a score, when there was an
interval, and three tiny puffs of grey smoke darted from the schooner's
deck, and echoed in their turn.

"Signal answered," said Poole quietly, and the men made their ash-blades
bend again in their eagerness to get back aboard.

"Why, what have they been about?" whispered Fitz.

"Looks like going fishing," said Poole, with a grin. "Don't chaff at a
time like this," cried Fitz pettishly. "I didn't know that you had got
boarding-netting like a man-of-war."

"What, don't you remember the night you came