." As he stood on the jetty, a breathless messenger brought
the reply. "A BOAT'S CREW GONE TO ONE-TREE POINT! FIVE MEN SENT FROM
EAGLEHAWK IN OBEDIENCE TO ORDERS!" Burgess understood it at once. The
fellows had decoyed the Eaglehawk guard. "Give way, men!" And the boat,
shooting into the darkness, made for Long Bay. "I won't be far behind
'em," said the Commandant, "at any rate."

Between Eaglehawk and Signal Hill were, for the absconders, other
dangers. Along the indented coast of Port Bunche were four constables'
stations. These stations--mere huts within signalling distance of each
other--fringed the shore, and to avoid them it would be necessary to
make a circuit into the scrub. Unwilling as he was to lose time, John
Rex saw that to attempt to run the gauntlet of these four stations would
be destruction. The safety of the party depended upon the reaching of
the Neck while the guard was weakened by the absence of some of the men
along the southern shore, and before the alarm could be given from
the eastern arm of the peninsula. With this view, he ranged his men in
single file; and, quitting the road near Norfolk Bay, made straight for
the Neck. The night had set in with a high westerly wind, and threatened
rain. It was pitch dark; and the fugitives were guided only by the dull
roar of the sea as it beat upon Descent Beach. Had it not been for
the accident of a westerly gale, they would not have had even so much
assistance.

The Crow walked first, as guide, carrying a musket taken from Harry.
Then came Gabbett, with an axe; followed by the other six, sharing
between them such provisions as they had obtained at Signal Hill. John
Rex, with the carbine, and Troke's pistols, walked last. It had been
agreed that if attacked they were to run each one his own way. In their
desperate case, disunion was strength. At intervals, on their left,
gleamed the lights of the constables' stations, and as they stumbled
onward they heard plainer and more plainly the hoarse murmur of the sea,
beyond which was liberty or death.

After nearly two hours of painful progress, Jemmy Vetch stopped, and
whispered them to approach. They were on a sandy rise. To the left was a
black object--a constable's hut; to the right was a dim white line--the
ocean; in front was a row of lamps, and between every two lamps leapt
and ran a dusky, indistinct body. Jemmy Vetch pointed with his lean
forefinger.

"The dogs!"

Instinctively they crouched do