ng heavily, "I confess I'm about useless
from lack of wind. _Sacre_! I 've been housed so long I am weak as an
invalid, yet I can steer the craft if you inform me where 'tis best to
go."

"Up country is our only chance," I gasped, grasping an oar, vaguely
noting a second figure huddled within the bow. "All the lower water is
patrolled by the fleet, but above there are plenty of hiding places.
Lay down to it hard, you black rascals; you are pulling for your lives."

De Noyan extended his hand toward the east.

"It will be dawn in about an hour," he said, a tone of earnestness
creeping into his soft voice. "We can never pull against this stiff
current so as to get any distance in that time. This east shore is
flat as a board for leagues. I 'm for heading straight across. If we
gain the west bank within an hour, or even two, the Devil himself would
have a hard job to find us."

"Go on," I muttered, bending grimly to my task. "You know this country
better than I. When we reach upper waters it will be my turn to guide."

As I uttered these words, a bit impatiently, there sounded a quick step
on the low bank at our right. A sharp voice cleaved the darkness.

"Halt there! Halt that boat, or I put a ball through you."

"Sheer off lively, lads," I whispered. "Swing her head out, Chevalier."

There was a rush of feet down the steep embankment. Then a second
voice questioned eagerly:

"What was it you saw, Sanchez?"

"Nothing, Senor; I heard voices out yonder. Listen! As the saints
watch, 't is the dip of oars."

"Halt that boat, or we shoot!"

There followed a moment's painful pause. An oar in our bow slipped,
making an awkward splash in the water. "_Caramba_! you will not? Take
aim, men--fire."

A jagged flash of flame cleaved the night. It lit the steep bank,
flinging a bright glare across the dark waters. In that instant I saw,
my face set shoreward, a dozen black figures clustered in a bunch. One
ball crashed into the planking close beside my hand, hurling a splinter
of wood against my face. The boat gave a sudden tremor, and, with a
quick, sharp cry of pain, the negro next me leaped into the air, and
went plunging overboard. I flung forth a hand in vain effort to
grapple his body, yet never touched it, and everything about became
black once more.

"The poor devil's gone," muttered De Noyan. "The rest of you lay down
to your oars, before they have time to load again."

So quickly did