he was smitten with a
strange surprise, and also with something else.

For Tom Bodger, as he lay balanced upon the lower part of his chest,
half in and half out of the boat, had got his fingers well under the
side of the locker and was holding on with all the strength of his horny
fingers.

"Ah, would yer!" he roared, as he felt himself seized, and, unable to
kick for want of yielding joints, he began to work his stumps, to his
holder's horror, like a pair of gigantic shears gone mad. The one that
was free struck the sailor a sounding rap on the ear and made him
release his hold of the prisoned piece of timber for the moment, and
when he splashed after the boat, after recovering from his surprise, and
made another grab, the second free peg caught him on the arm like a blow
from a constable's truncheon. The sailor uttered a yell for help, but
it was cut short by a blow on each side of his neck as Tom's legs
snapped together, and then he fell forward with a splash and was helped
out by a couple of his mates, who stood, waist-deep, gazing into the
darkness after the boat.

"Where are yer, my lads?" panted Tom, as he progressed over the side
like a huge toad.

"Help! Help!" came from his right, and with the boat rocking from side
to side he felt about along the gunwale till his hand came in contact
with Aleck's fingers, clinging desperately to the edge of the boat.

"Got yer," said Tom, gripping the lad's wrist and hanging over the side
to speak. "Can't yer hold on while I get an oar out and move her a bit
furder away?"

"No. Help me in," said Aleck, huskily.

"Right, sir. Here, let me get my hands under yer arms, and I'll heave
yer in. I say, wheer's Eben Megg?"

"Out here. I've got hold of him."

Tom Bodger whistled softly in his astonishment.

"Hold tight on him, my lad," he growled; and then putting forth his
great strength of arm and back, he raised Aleck right over the boat's
side, and as Eben was drawn close in, loosened the former and got tight
hold of the latter.

"Can yer shift for yourself now, Master Aleck?" he whispered.

"Yes; but have you got Eben?"

"Ay, ay! Got him fast. Out o' my way."

The next minute the smuggler lay perfectly inert at the bottom of the
boat and Aleck was passing an oar over the stern and beginning to scull.

"Get another oar out, Tom," he whispered, "or they'll have us yet."

"Ay, ay!" was growled, softly.

But it was too loud, for a voice close at hand