this part of our story requires that we should turn back,
repeatedly, in order to trace the movements of the different parties
which co-operated with each other.

While the warlike demonstrations we have described were being made by
the British cruiser, the crew of the _Foam_ were not idle.

In consequence of the capture of Bumpus by the savages, Gascoyne's
message was, of course, not delivered to Manton, and the first mate of
the sandalwood trader would have known nothing about the fight that
raged on the other side of the island on the Sunday, but for the three
shots, fired by the first lieutenant of the _Talisman_, which decided
the fate of the day.

Being curious to know the cause of the firing, Manton climbed the
mountains until he gained the dividing ridge--which, however, he did not
succeed in doing till late in the afternoon, the way being rugged as
well as long. Here he almost walked into the midst of a flying party of
the beaten savages; but dropping suddenly behind a rock, he escaped
their notice. The haste with which they ran, and the wounds visible on
the persons of many of them, were sufficient to acquaint the mate of the
_Foam_ with the fact that a fight had taken place in which the savages
had been beaten; and his knowledge of the state of affairs on the island
enabled him to jump at once to the correct conclusion that the Christian
village had been attacked.

A satanic smile played on the countenance of the mate as he watched the
savages until they were out of sight; then, quitting his place of
concealment, he hurried back to the schooner, which he reached some time
after nightfall.

Immediately on gaining the deck he gave orders to haul the chain of the
anchor short, to shake out the sails, and to make other preparations to
avail himself without delay of the light breeze off the land which his
knowledge of the weather and the locality taught him to look for before
morning.

While his orders were being executed, a boat came alongside with that
part of the crew which had been sent ashore by Gascoyne to escape the
eye of the British commander. It was in charge of the second mate--a
short, but thick-set and extremely powerful man, of the name of
Scraggs--who walked up to his superior the moment he came on board, and,
in a tone somewhat disrespectful, asked what was going to be done.

"Don't you see," growled Manton; "we're getting ready to sail."

"Of course I see that," retorted Scraggs, betwe