w is your chance, captain," exclaimed the master, as the wind veered
a point well to the eastward.

The cable was slipped. The ship mercifully canted the right way under
single-reefed topsails, topgallant sails, jib, and driver, and with a
strong breeze stood out of the treacherous bay.

Jack and all on board had good reason to thank a merciful Providence
that they had escaped the danger to which they had been exposed. At
length the _Bellona_ was clear of the land. Now came the question of
what to do with the troops. There was only one anchor left. Jack
considered that it would be extreme rashness to bring up again close to
the shore until he had steam power on which to depend to help him off,
should the wind continue to the southward. Still it was of the greatest
importance that by some means or other the troops should be landed. The
major, who was by this time anxious to leave the ship, insisted that "it
ought to be done, and must be done."

"The _must_ depends upon circumstances," answered Jack. "If I can land
your men I will, without risking their lives or those of my boats'
crews. By running further to the eastward, a place may be found where
you can be put on shore, and you must march from thence to the place you
were ordered to garrison, but until the machinery is in good working
order, I must do my utmost to keep off the land."

To this the major had nothing to say.

The breeze freshened. By nightfall the _Bellona_ was out of sight of
land, and Jack felt much more easy than he had done for several days.
Although the rough seas had greatly delayed the engineer, he was at
length able to report that the machinery was again in order. The wind
also had fallen considerably, and the sea having much gone down, Jack
hoped that he might at length get rid of his guests. Both officers and
men had behaved admirably, and had assisted on all occasions in making
sail, or when pulling and hauling was required on deck. The ship was,
at this time, about forty miles from the port of debarkation. After
many anxious hours of watching, Jack turned in, leaving Tom, as officer
of the watch, on deck.

Young Alick Murray had been placed in Tom's watch, and besides him there
was a mate and another midshipman. The night was tolerably clear, the
stars shining, but a mist hung above the surface of the sea, so that no
object could be seen until tolerably near. Tom constantly hailed the
look-outs forward to ascertain that