"He is bringing the rope ashore," said Syd to himself, as he saw the end in his companion's teeth; and they climbed on, encouraging each other with shouts, and steadily progressed; but as they climbed it was in momentary expectation of hearing a wild shriek, and seeing Roylance throw up his hands, as one of the ravenous monsters dragged him under.

And as they climbed to get level with him, Roylance swam steadily on through the clear blue water; and though every eye searched about him for a sight of some shark, not one was visible, though the back fins of no less than four could be seen gliding about in the neighbourhood of the floating hutch on the far side of the boat.

By making almost superhuman efforts the party on the rock managed to get abreast of Roylance just as he was half-way between the boat and a patch of rugged boulders which had seemed to promise foothold till help could reach him from above, and still the brave fellow swam on with the rope in his teeth, ring after ring slowly gliding out over the boat's side.

"Now," cried Syd, as he grasped mentally the spot where his companion would land. "A man to go down."

The sailor who had been his other companion on the day when Syd had attempted to explore the rock stepped forward, a loop was made in the rope, the man threw it over his head, and passed it below his hips.

"Ready," he cried, and he was lowered down over the edge to be ready to give Roylance a helping hand, and try to make fast the line the latter was bringing ashore.

"Ah!" shrieked Syd, suddenly, for it seemed to him that the end had come. For as he gazed wildly at his messmate, he saw that he was swimming with all his might, but making no way. Worse: he was being drawn slowly and surely out to sea, and the reason was plain; the rope that should have continued to give over the side had caught somewhere in the broken edge of the bulwarks, and all Roylance's risks and efforts had been thrown away.

"Let go, and swim for it!" yelled Syd, and Roylance answered by throwing up a hand.

"Can you see the sharks?" said Syd, half-aloud.

"No, sir, not yet," said one of the sailors. "They're cruising about the boat."

"Roylance—Roy! Let go of the rope and swim," cried Syd, in an agony of dread.

But the young middy turned on his back, loosened the rope all he could, and gave it a shake so as to send a wave along it. This had no effect, for it was too tight, and to the honour of those on the rock they saw him deliberately turn and take a stroke or two back toward the boat before giving the rope another shake. This time it had its due effect, for the wave ran along the line and shifted it out of the rugged spot where it had caught, so that it once more ran out freely as Roylance turned to swim for the shore.

"Hist! Don't make a sound," whispered Syd, as a murmur of horror ran through the group on the top of the cliff.

For something had caught the eyes of all at the same moment. To wit, one of the triangular back fins, which had been gliding here and there about the coop on the far side of the boat, was seen to be coming round her bows, and the next thing seemed to be that the monster would detect the position of the midshipman, and then all would be over. In imagination Syd saw the voracious creature gliding rapidly toward Roylance, dive down, turn over showing its white under-parts, and then there was the blood-stained water, the wild shriek, and disappearance. But only in imagination, for as he made an effort all this cleared away from his excited brain, and the midshipman was there still swimming vigorously, and with a slow steady stroke, toward the rock, towing the line. But there was the shark between him and the boat, quite round on his side now.

"Hadn't you better let go?" said Syd, in a voice he did not know for his own.

"No," came back rather breathlessly, "there's plenty of line, Belt. I made the other end fast and—can't talk now."

A sudden thought struck Syd.

"I must not say any more," he said to himself; "a word would frighten him and make him lose his nerve. Here, quick! My lads," he whispered, "get some big lumps of rock ready to throw down."

The men scattered, and in less than a minute they were back, and a little heap of stones from the size of a man's head downwards were ready at the edge of the cliff, where Syd was gazing down fifty feet or so at his friend, who still swam on toward where the sailor was waiting, and in happy ignorance of the nearness of one of the sharks. Syd could see right down into the clear water whenever the disturbance made by the lad's strokes did not ruffle the surface, and his starting eyes were plunged down into the depths in search of fresh dangers.

"Oh!" he said to himself, "if he only knew how near that savage beast is! Swim, Roy, swim, lad! Why don't you let go of the rope and save yourself?"

He dare not shout aloud; and though he was high up in safety, he felt once more all the agony of horror and fear which had come over him when he was himself escaping from a shark, and he shuddered as he heard a murmur about him, and the men stood ready each with a great stone.

"Couldn't no one go and help him with a knife?" whispered one of the men. "Oh! look at that."

"Hullo! Caught again?" cried Roylance, as the rope jerked.

No one replied. It was as if their mouths were too dry to utter a word, for the party on the top of the cliff plainly saw the shark thrust the rope up with its muzzle and glide under it.

Just then the horrible secret was out, for the sailor down below at the end of the rope shrieked out—

"Swim, sir! swim for it. One of those devils is coming at yer."

Roylance was not a dozen feet from the speaker now, and they saw him give a violent start, and glance wildly over his shoulder.

The fright did it. He could no longer swim calmly now, but began to throw out his arms hand over hand to reach the rock, splashing the water up into foam, and in an instant this brought the shark in his track.

"Ready with the stones?" cried Syd, seizing one himself, and poising it above his head.

The others obeyed, and what followed seemed afterwards almost momentary.

The shark scented its prey, and came on steadily now toward where Roylance was struggling desperately. In another minute the poor fellow would have been seized, but a shower of great stones came whirling down in dangerous proximity to the swimmer, only one of which struck the shark, but that one with so good effect that it was for the moment disconcerted, and turned round as if puzzled. But directly after it saw its prey, went down, and rose in the act of turning over to seize its victim.

But there's many a slip between the cup and the lip, even in the case of sharks. Many a one has had a knife ripping it open just as it has anticipated enjoying some juicy black; and others have had their prey snatched from their lancet-studded jaws, or tasted with it a hook.

It was so here. Syd had hurled his stone, and was watching its effect before stooping for another, when he realised what the sailor in the loop below was about to do.

"No, no," he cried, quick as thought. "No more stones, stand by with the rope."

Syd threw himself down upon his chest and strained over the edge to watch what was going on, while, with the rapidity taught by discipline, the sailors seized the rope, and stood ready and waiting the next order.

It was not for them to think for themselves, but to act as their officers bade, and Syd was already one whom they trusted and flew to obey.

All this takes long to describe, but the action was quick enough.

The sailor at the end of the rope had, as Roylance drew nearer, spun himself round rapidly till the loop was tight about him as he sat astride in the bight, and then he began to swing himself to and fro, describing a longer and longer arc till he found that he could reach. Then with a sudden desperate movement he flung himself forward and grasped Roylance round the waist, seizing the line the midshipman held with his teeth, too; and then as, with the horror of despair, Roylance exerted his failing strength to get a grip of the bight of the hanging rope, Syd loudly shouted—

"Now, my lads, run them up." It was just in time.

In spite of the rocks and dangerous nature of the top of the cliff, the men, who had been waiting, started away from the edge, the rope hissed in running over the limestone, and Roylance and his brave rescuer were literally snatched up ten feet as the shark made its second attack, but only to fall back into the sea with a mighty splash.

"Haul now!" cried Syd, excitedly, for the men could go no farther.

"No, no, avast! avast!" came up hoarsely from between the sailor's teeth, as he and Roylance swung to and fro just above the maddened shark, which began to swim in a circle.

"Stop!" roared Syd. "Can you hold on, sir?" said the sailor. "Yes," said Roylance. "Then here goes. Loose the line, sir." His hands were free, and he had taken the tow-rope now from his teeth.

Hardly knowing what he did Roylance obeyed, and with the rapidity taught by much handling of hemp, the sailor passed the end of the tow-rope through the bight of that which supported them, and then sent it through again, and secured it with a knot.

It was just in time, for as he drew through the end and tugged at it, the line began to tighten, and draw them out of the perpendicular, then more and more away from the rock as the boat still glided away.

"All right, sir, I've got you now," cried the sailor, clasping Roylance about the waist. "Now then, get your legs 'cross mine, and put your arms round my neck and the rope too. That's your sort. Glad I saved your end from going after all that trouble."

"Ready below?" cried Syd, as he looked down. "Well, no, sir," said the sailor, "I wouldn't haul yet, or t'other line might part.—Did you make it well fast aboard the boat, sir?" he continued to Roylance.

The latter nodded his head, and sat gazing down, shuddering, at the shark.

"Then you'd best wait, sir," shouted the man, as they were drawn up higher and higher, swinging gently like a counterpoise. "You see our weight eases it off like on the boat, and we may get her yet."

It seemed possible, for its rate was checked, but the slow deliberate glide still went on a little, flattening the curve formed by the two lines extending from the deck of the boat to the top of the rocks, fifty feet above the sea.

"One moment, Mr Roylance, sir," said the man, as coolly as if he were in the rigging of the ship, and not suspended by a thin rope over the jaws of a monstrous shark. "I want to get my legs round facing that cliff there. That's your sort. Now if your line gives way, as I'm feared it will—one minute: yes, the knot's fast; that won't draw—I say, if the rope gives way we shall go down again the rocks with a spang, but don't you mind; it'll only be a swing, and I'll fend us off with my feet. My! we're getting tight now. Look out, sir, we're going."

But the rope did not break, for seeing how dangerous the strain was becoming, Syd ordered the men behind him to ease off a little, and then a little more and a little more, till the progress of the water-logged vessel was gradually checked, and as they felt that the worst of the strain was over, the men on the cliff gave a cheer.

"Steady there, steady!" cried Terry, angrily, and the men murmured.

"Silence there!" cried Syd. "Now, my lads, I think you may begin to haul."

The men obeyed, and by the exercise of a great deal of caution the first rope was drawn slowly hand over hand up the cliff till Roylance's head appeared. Syd extended his hands to his help, and the midshipman climbed over the edge and sat down in the hot sunshine in his drenched clothes, looking white and haggard, as one looks after a terrible escape from death.

The next minute the sailor was on the cliff, looking none the worse for his adventure, but pretty well drenched by contact with Roylance's dripping clothes.

Then a little more hauling took place, till the men could get a good hold of the line Roylance had brought ashore, in the midst of which the latter suddenly sprang up, looked over the edge of the cliff, and catching sight of his enemy, he picked up the biggest piece of stone he could lift and hurled it down. It fell with a mighty splash in the water, and as chance had it, for little could be said for the aim, right down upon the shark, which turned up directly after, and then recovered itself and swam laboriously away.



CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT.

"You made me feel horribly bad, Roy," whispered Syd, hastily. "How could you do such a fearfully dangerous thing?"

Roylance smiled feebly and pointed down at the boat, which was yielding slowly to the drag kept on it by the men.

"That may be the means of saving our lives," he said.

"Are you going to leave those other two poor fellows to fall off the rock as food for the sharks, Mr Belton?" said Terry, who had been put out of temper by the action of the men.

"I think you can answer that question yourself, Mr Terry," said Roylance, flushing up angrily.

Syd made no reply, but quietly gave his orders.

"Mr Roylance," he said, "are you well enough to take charge of the men here, as they haul the boat along, while I go and see to the bo'sun and Rogers being got up the cliff?"

"Well enough? yes," cried Roylance, upon whom the short encounter with Terry had acted like a stimulus.

Terry turned pale with rage at being passed over, and he followed Syd and four of the men as they hurried along with the rope set at liberty coiled up.

It was with no little anxiety that the party approached the spot where Rogers had gone down, while Terry, who had expressed so much interest in the fate of the two men, oddly enough hung behind.

Syd was the first to reach the place, and looked over to be greeted by Rogers with a hail.

"Is Mr Strake all right?"

"Ay, ay, sir; all but my bark," said the boatswain. "Don't say, sir, as you haven't got Mr Roylance off the boat."

"Got him off, Strake, and they're towing the boat along."

"Hurrah!" shouted the two men, whose position in an indentation of the rock line had prevented them from seeing what was going on.

The rope was lowered down with the loop all ready, and Strake was hauled up first, his appearance over the side being greeted with a cheer, and plenty of hands were ready to help him into a sitting position, for it was evident that he could not lift one leg.

"Never mind me, my lads," he said, quietly. "Get Rogers on deck first."

This was soon effected, the smart young sailor displaying an activity as he scrambled over the edge of the rocks that contrasted strangely with the boatswain's limp.

"Now, Strake," said Syd, as soon as he had seen Rogers safe, "are you hurt?"

"Hurt, sir? Did you say hurt?"

"Yes, yes, man."

"Well, I s'pose I am, sir, for I feels as if I'd got a big sore place spread all over me. Mussy me, sir, that's about the hardest rocks to fall on as ever was."

"But no bones broken?"

"Bones broken? Nay. I've got none of your poor brittle chaney-ladle kind o' bones; but my head's cut and the bark's all off my right leg in the front. Left leg arn't got no bark at all, and I'm reg'larly shaken in all my seams, and stove in on my starboard quarter, sir. So if you'll have me got into dock or beached and then overhaul me a bit, I'd take it kindly."

"Of course, of course, Strake; anything I can do."

"Ahoy!" cried the old man, raising a hand as he sat in the sunshine upon the rock, but lowering it directly. "Oh, dear; I wanted to give them a hearty cheer yonder, but, phew! it's bellows to mend somewhere. Yes, I'm stove in. Old ship's been on the rocks; all in the dry though."

A cheer came back, though, as Roylance and his men caught sight of the two who had been rescued, while they towed the boat slowly along.

"How are we to get you back to the huts, Strake?" said Syd, anxiously.

"Oh, never mind me just at present, my lad," said the boatswain; "what I want to see is that there boat got alongside o' our harbour—on'y 'tarn't a harbour—and made fast with all the rope you can find. Maybe she's got a cable aboard. I should break my heart if she weer to break adrift now."

"Mr Roylance has her in charge, Strake, and I'll see to you. Where are you in pain?"

"Ask me where I arn't in pain, Mr Belton, sir. I got it this time."

"I'm sorry for you, Strake."

"Thank ye, sir; but I'm sorry for you. There's a big job to patch me up and caulk me, I can tell you. It's horspittle this time, I'm feared."

"But how are we to move you without giving you pain?"

"I'll tell you, sir. Sail again, and some un at each corner. We shan't beat that."

The sail was procured, and the injured man was carried as carefully as possible back to the foot of the gap, hoisted up, and then borne into the hospital.

"Strake! Hurt?" cried the lieutenant.

"Oh, not much, sir; bit of a tumble, that's all, sir. Don't you be skeared. I arn't going to make no row about it. No, no, sir, please," continued the boatswain, "not yet. I don't feel fit to be boarded. Just you go and give your orders to make that there boat safe, and then I'm ready for you. One word though, sir."

"What is it?"

"Have that there boat well fended, or she'll grind herself to pieces agen the rock."

Syd hesitated, but being full of anxiety to see the boat that had cost them so much thoroughly secured, and feeling perhaps that after all a rest after his rough journey would make the boatswain more able to bear examination and bandaging, he hurried off to find that he need not have troubled himself, for Roylance was doing everything possible, and the vessel was being safely moored head and stern.

But he was in time to have the boatswain's proposition carried out, and a couple of pieces of spar were hung over the side to keep her from tearing and grinding on the edge of the natural pier.

As Syd was returning he came upon Terry, looking black as night, and held out his hand.

"I'm sorry there should have been any fresh unpleasantness," he said. "Can't we be friends, Mr Terry?"

"That's just what I want to be, Belton," cried Terry, eagerly, seizing the proffered hand. "I'm afraid I did interfere a bit too much to-day."

"And somehow," mused Syd, as he went on to the hospital, "I can't feel as if it's all genuine. It's like shaking hands with a sole and five sprats. Ugh! how cold and fishy his hand did feel."

The lieutenant was lying in the hospital with his eyes closed, and Pan was bathing his father's brow with water, using his injured arm now and then out of forgetfulness, but putting it back in the sling again as soon as it was observed.

"Arn't much the matter with it, I know, Pan-y-mar," the injured man whispered, as Syd halted by the door to see how his new patient seemed, trembling terribly in his ignorance at having to put his smattering of surgery to the test once more.

"Ah, you dunno, father," grumbled the boy. "You've ketched it this time. I don't talk about getting no rope's-ends to you."

"No, my lad, you don't. I should jest like to ketch you at it. But you won't see me going about in a sling."

"Ah, you dunno yet, father."

"Don't I? You young swab; why, if I had my head took off with a shot, I wouldn't howl as you did."

"Why, yer couldn't, father," said Pan, grinning.

"What, yer laughing at me, are yer? Just you wait till I gets a few yards o' dackylum stuck about me, and you'll get that rope's-end yet, Pan-y-mar."

"Oh, no! I shan't," said Pan in a whisper, after glancing at the lieutenant, who was lying with his eyes closed. "You'll be bad for two months."

"What? Why, you sarcy young lubber, if the luff warn't a-lying there and I didn't want to wake him, I'd give yer such a cuff over the ear as 'd make yer think bells was ringing."

"Couldn't reach," said Pan, dabbing his face.

"Then I'd kick yer out of the door."

"Yah!" grinned Pan. "Can't kick. I see yer brought in, and yer couldn't stand."

"Keep that water out o' my eye, warmint, will you," whispered the boatswain. "Water's too good to be wasted. Give us a drink, boy."

Pan rose and dipped a pannikin full of the cool water from a bucket, and held it to his father's lips.

"Wouldn't have had no water if it hadn't been for me coming ashore," he said.

"Ah, you've a lot to boast about. Just you pour that in properly, will yer; I want it inside, not out."

"Who's to pour it right when yer keeps on talking?" said Pan, as he trickled the water into his father's mouth.

"Ah, you're a nice sarcy one now I'm down, Pan-y-mar," said Stoke, after a long refreshing draught. "But you may be trustful, I've got a good memory for rope's-ends, and you shall have it warmly as soon as I'm well."

"Then I won't stop and nuss yer," said Pan, drawing back.

"You just come on, will yer, yer ungrateful swab."

"Shan't," said Pan.

"What! Do you know this here arn't the skipper's garden, and you and me only gardeners, but 'board ship—leastwise it's all the same—and I'm your orficer?"

"You arn't a orficer now," said Pan, grinning. "You're only a wounded man."

"Come here."

"Shan't!"

"Pan-y-mar, come here."

"Say you won't rope's-end me, and I will."

"But I will rope's-end you."

"Then I won't come."

The boatswain made an effort to rise, but sank back with a groan. Pan took a couple of steps forward, and looked at him eagerly.

"Why, you're shamming, father," he said.

The boatswain lay back with the great drops of sweat standing on his face.

"I say, you won't rope's-end me, father?"

There was no reply.

"Why, you are shamming, father."

Still all was silent, and the boy darted to the injured man's side and began to bathe his face rapidly.

"Father," he whispered, hoarsely, "father. Oh, I say! Don't die, and you shall give it me as much as you like. Father—Oh, it's you, Master Syd. Be quick! He's so bad. What shall I do?"

"Be quiet," said Syd, quietly. "Don't be frightened; he has fainted."

"Then why did he go scaring a lad like that?" whimpered Pan, looking on.

"Hush! Be quiet. There: he is coming round," said Syd, as the injured man uttered a loud sigh and looked wonderingly about him.

"Just let me get hold—Oh, it's you, sir. Glad you've comed. I'm ready now.—Stand aside, Pan-y-mar, and give the doctor room.—Say, Master Syd," he whispered, "don't let that young sneak know what I said, but I do feel a bit skeared."

"You are weak and faint."

"But it's about my legs, Master Sydney. Don't take 'em off, lad, unless you are obliged."

"Nonsense! I shall not want to do that. You are much bruised, but there are no bones broken."

"Ay, but there are, my lad," said the boatswain, sadly. "I didn't want to say much about it, but I am stove in. Ribs."

"How do you know?"

"Feels it every time I breathes, my lad. Bad job when a ship's timbers goes."

Sydney knew what to do under the circumstances, and sending Pan for Rogers to help him, he proceeded to examine his fresh patient, to find that two ribs were broken on the right side, the rest of the injuries consisting of severe bruises and grazings of the skin. In addition there were a couple of cuts on the back of the head, which called for strapping up.

Part of these injuries had been attended to by the time Pan returned with Rogers, and then the ribs were tightly bandaged with a broad strip of sail-cloth.

"I say, sir," growled the boatswain, "not going to do this all over me?"

"No! Why?"

"'Cause I shan't be able to move, and my boy's been a-haskin' for something hot 'fore you come."

"That I didn't, father."

"Oh, yes, you did, my lad. You didn't ask with yer mouth, but have a way of asking for what you're so fond on without making no noise."

Pan screwed up his face, and the lieutenant, who had been lying apparently asleep, burst into a loud laugh.

"Come, Strake," he said, "you had better leave that, and think of getting better."

"Ay, ay, sir; but I hope I see you better for your nap."

"I wish you did, my man, and I wish you the same. But there, we've such a skilful young doctor to look after us, we shan't hurt much."

"Not us, sir. I am't nothing to what you was, and see what a job Mr Belton's made o' you."

"Yes; it's wonderful. I can never be grateful enough."

"Beg pardon, sir," said Sydney, "but I want to finish bandaging the boatswain; and if you keep on talking like that I can't."

"I am silent, O doctor!" said the lieutenant, laughing. "And so you've got a boat, have you?"

"Such as it is, sir."

"Then if the captain does not come back we shall have the means of getting away from this place. No; that will not do, Mr Belton: we must hold it till we are driven out. Keep to it to the very last. I say we: you must, for you are in command. I suppose it will be months before I am well."

"I'm afraid it will," replied Syd.

"Then you must hold it, as I said."

"Hurrah!" cried Strake, and then screwing up his face—"My word! that's bad. You're all right, Pan-y-mar. There won't be no rope's-end for you this week."

"No," said Syd, merrily, "I think he's safe for quite that time."

"And when may I move, doctor?" said Mr Dallas, smiling.

"As soon as you can bear it, sir, I'll have you got out in the morning to lie in the shade and get the fresh sea-breeze before it grows hot."

"Ah! thank you, my lad," he said, with a longing look. "I'm beginning to think I would as soon have been a surgeon as what I am."

Syd started and coloured up, as he wondered whether the lieutenant knew anything about his life at home.



CHAPTER THIRTY NINE.

The same reply always from the look-out man by the flagstaff; no ship in sight, and the town of Saint Jacques slumbering in the sun. But there was so much to do that Syd and Roylance could spare very little time for thinking.

As soon as the patients had been tended there were a score of matters to take Syd's attention; but he was well seconded by Roylance, who, to Terry's disgust, threw himself heart and soul into the work of keeping the fort as if it were a ship.

The lieutenant progressed wonderfully now that the feverish stage was over, and one day he said—

"I can't work, Syd, my dear boy, for I am as weak as a baby, and I shall not interfere in any way, so go on and behave like a man."

Pan forgot to use his sling to such an extent that there could be no mistake about his wound being in a fair way to heal, and were other proof needed it was shown in the way in which he tormented his helpless father. For though the boatswain pooh-poohed the idea of anything much being the matter with him, it was evident that he suffered a great deal, though he never winced when his injuries were dressed.

"Serves me right," he used to say. "Arter all my practice, to think o' me not being able to heave a rope on board a derrylick without chucking myself arter it. There, don't you worrit about me, sir. Give me a hextry fig o' tobacco, and a stick or a rope's-end to stir up that young swab o' mine, and I shall grow fresh bark over all my grazings, and the broken ribs 'll soon get set. How are you getting on with the boat?"

"Not at all, Strake," replied Syd. "We can't pump her out because there's a big leak in her somewhere, and I don't like to break her up in case we think of a way of floating her so as to get away from here."

"What? Who wants to get away from here, sir? Orders was to occupy this here rock, and of course you hold it till the skipper comes back and takes us off."

"Yes; but in case our provisions fail?"

"Tchah! ketch more fish, sir. There's plenty, aren't there?"

"Yes; as much as we can use."

"And any 'mount o' water?"

"Yes."

"And the only thing you want is wood for cooking?"

"Yes."

"Then that boat, which seems to ha' been sent o' purpose, has to be got ashore somehow to be broke up. Now, if you'll take my advice you'll just go down to the rocks there and think that job out. I can't help you much, sir, 'cause here I am on my beam-ends. Go and think it out, lad, and then come and tell me."

"Strake's right," said the lieutenant, who had been lying in the shade outside the hut. "Captain Belton will either be back himself or send help before long. You must hold the place till he comes."

Those words were comfortable to Sydney. They were like definite orders from his superiors, and he could obey them with more satisfaction to himself than any he thought out for himself. So he went down to the pier, meeting Roylance on his way, who had just been his rounds, and had a few words with the men on duty by the upper and lower guns, and at the flagstaff.

"My orders are to go and see to getting the wreck ashore for firewood, Roylance."

"Orders?" said the midshipman, laughing. "Well, it does seem a pity after the trouble we took."

"And risk," interpolated Syd.

"To get her moored here to be of no use."

"Come, and let's see what can be done."

The two youths descended the rope-ladder beneath the lower gun, and spent some time in examining the vessel, but were compelled to give up in despair. She was securely moored so that they could easily get on to the water-washed decks, where there were a couple of fixed pumps, but these had been tried again and again; and, as the men said, it was like trying to pump the Atlantic dry to go on toiling at a task where the water flowed in as fast as it was drawn out.

"There's no getting at the leak even if we knew where it was," said Roylance.

"I think the same," said Syd, "so we may as well get all the wood out of her we can, and lay it on the rocks to dry."

This task was begun, and for two days the men worked well; some cutting, others dragging off planks with crowbars, while the rest bore the wood to the foot of the rocky wall, where it was hauled up and laid to dry in the hottest parts of the natural fort.

It was on the third day from the beginning of this task, as the pile of dripping wood they had taken from the wreck began to grow broad and high, while endless numbers of riven pieces were ranged in the full sunshine, and sent forth a quivering transparent vapour into the heated air, that Syd, who was standing ankle-deep in water on a cross-beam directing the men, and warning them not to make a false step on account of the sharks, suddenly uttered a cry—

"Look out!" he shouted, and there was a rush for the rock, where as soon as they were on safely the men began to roar with laughter.

"Beg pardon, sir," said Rogers, touching his hat, as he stood axe in hand; "but seeing as how he tried to eat me, oughtn't we to try and eat he?"

The "he" pointed to was a long, lean, hungry-looking shark which had been cruising about the side of the vessel, whose bulwarks had all been ripped off and deck torn up, so that she floated now like a huge tub whose centre was crossed by broad beams. So open was the vessel that it had needed very little effort on the part of a shark to make a rush, glide in over the ragged side, and then begin floundering about in the water, and over and under the beams which had supported the deck.

"I don't know about eating him, Roy," said Syd; "but as I'm captain I pass sentence of death on the brute." Then to the men—"How can you tackle the wretch?"

"Oh, we'll soon tackle him, sir," said Rogers; "eh, messmets?"

There was a growl of assent at this, and the men looked at their young leader full of expectancy.

"Well," he said, "be careful. What do you mean to do?"

"Seems to me, sir," said the man, "as the best thing to do would be to fish for him."

"No, no," cried Roylance; "fetch a line with a running knot, and see if you can't get it round him, and have him out."

Rogers gave his leg a slap.

"That's it, sir. Pity you and me can't be swung over him like we was off the rocks. Easily run it across his nose then."

Roylance could not help a shudder, and he glanced at Syd to see if he was observed.

"I get dreaming about that thing sometimes," he said. "I wonder whether this is the one."

"Hardly likely, but it's sure to be a relation," said Syd, laughing, as they stood watching the movements of the shark, which seemed to be puzzled by its quarters, and was now showing its tail as it dived down under a beam, now raising its head to glide over and disappear in the depths of the ship's hold.

The men were not long in getting the line that had been used to tow the vessel to its moorings, and a freely running noose was prepared and tested by Rogers, who suddenly threw it over one of his messmates' heads, gave it a snatch, and drew it taut. Taking it off, he lassoed another in the same way.

"That's the tackle," he said, smiling. "Next thing is to get it round the shark."

"Yes," said Roylance, "but it's something like the rats putting the bell on the cat's neck. Who's to do it?"

"Oh, I'm a-going to do it, sir," said Rogers, shaking out the rope. "Lay hold, messmates, and when I says 'now!' have him out and over the rocks here.—P'r'aps, sir, you'd like to have an axe to give him number one?"

"How do you mean?"

"One on the tail, sir, to fetch it off; only look out, for he's pretty handy with his tail."

"That's what some one said of the man who had his legs shot off," whispered Roylance, laughing, "that he was pretty handy with the wooden ones."

"We're ready, sir," said Rogers, "when you likes to give the word."

"But about danger, my man?" said Syd, who half-wondered at himself, as he hectored over the crew, and thought that he was a good deal like Terry, who was contemptuously looking on.

"Theer's no danger, sir," said Rogers. "I don't know so much about that," said Syd; "suppose you slipped and went down into the hold?"

"Well, in that case, sir," said Rogers, grimly, "Master Jack there would have the best of it, and none of his mates to help. Wonder whether a shark like that shovel-nosed beggar could eat a whole man at a meal?"

"Ugh!" ejaculated Syd, with a shudder. "It's too risky. Better give it up." But the men looked chapfallen.

"But the brute will put a complete stop to our work," said Roylance, who was watching the restless movements of the self-imprisoned shark. "Don't stop them, Belton," he continued, in a low tone, "I want to see that monster killed."

"For revenge?"

"If you like to call it so. It or one of its fellows made me pass such moments of agony as I shall never forget."

"I shall never forget my horror either," said Syd, as he too looked viciously at the savage creature, which just then rose out of the water and glided over one of the beams. "There, go on, Rogers, only take great care."

"I just will that, sir," said the man, as his messmates cheered; and taking the noose in his hand he stepped along the plank leading from the rocks to the vessel. "When I say 'now, lads,' mind you let him feel you directly; and haul him out."

"Ay, ay!" cried the men; and then every eye was fixed upon the active young fellow, whose white feet seemed to cling to the wet planking upon which he stood, and from which he stepped cautiously out upon one of the beams that curved over from side to side.

Hardly was he well out, and stooping down peering into the water, than Syd uttered a warning cry, and the man bounded back as the shark, attracted by the sight of his white legs, came up from behind, and glided exactly over the spot where he had been standing.

"Ah! would yer!" shouted Rogers; and the men roared with laughter. "This here's fishing with your own legs for bait," continued the young sailor. "Well, it's got to be who's sharpest—him or me."

"I think you had better not venture," said Syd, hesitating again.

"Oh! don't say that, sir. We shall all be horrid disappointed if we don't get him."

"But see what a narrow escape you had."

"Well, yes, sir; I wasn't quite sharp enough, but there was no harm done."

"Go on," said Syd, unwillingly, as he caught Roylance's eye; and hurrying by for fear that the permission should be withdrawn, the man stepped quickly back on to the beam, keeping a sharp look-out to right and left.

"I see you, you beggar," he said; "come on."

The shark accepted the invitation, and made quite a leap, passing over the beam again, diving down, snowing his white, and swam twenty feet away, to turn with difficulty amongst the submerged timber forward, and returned aiming clumsily at the white legs which tempted him, but missing his goal, for the young sailor nimbly leaped ashore.

"I shan't get him that way," he said. "Here, give us something white."

There was nothing white handy but blocks of coral, and Rogers solved the difficulty by selecting a hat and taking a handspike.

He tried his plan at least a dozen times without result, and lost two good chances; but the man was too clever for the shark at last. Rogers had scanned pretty accurately the course the brute would pursue, and had noted that when once it gave a vigorous sweep with its tail to send itself forward, there was no variation in its course.

So waiting his time, standing in the middle of the cross-beams with the noose in his hand, he fixed his eye upon his enemy, threw the hat ashore as a useless bait, and depending once more upon himself, he waited.

It was not for long. The brute made at him, and as it glided out of the water to seize its prey, Rogers, by a quick leap, spread his legs wide apart and held the noose so cleverly that the shark glided into it as a dog leaps through a hoop; and it was so ingeniously adjusted that the rope tightened directly, almost before the young sailor could shout "Now" while the shark went over and down between two of the cross-beams behind his fisher, as, from a cause upon which he had not counted, Rogers took an involuntary header into the part of the water-logged vessel from which the shark had come.

The cause upon which the young sailor had not reckoned was the rope, which, at the shark's plunge as soon as noosed, tightened the line which crossed Rogers' leg, snatched it from under him, and down he went, to the horror of all present.

In a moment the water all about where the shark had plunged began to boil, and the next moment there was a quick splashing as Rogers' head appeared.

"Hold on to him!" he shouted. "Don't let him go. Where's he ketched?"

"Don't talk," yelled Syd, running along the planks to stretch out a hand. "Here, quick, let me help you out."

"Oh, I'm all right, sir, so long as the rope holds," cried the young sailor, coolly. "He won't think of me while he's got that bit of line about him." But he climbed out all the same, and stood rubbing his shin.

"Never thought of the rope hitching on to me like that," he said. "Whereabouts is he ketched, mates?"

"The rope has slipped down pretty close to his tail," cried Roylance, as he watched the creature's frantic plunges in the limited space.

"Something like fishing this, Roy," said Syd, excitedly, while the men held on, and they could see amid the flying, foaming water the long, lithe body quivering from end to end like a steel spring.

"I'd haul him out, sir, 'fore he shakes that noose right over his tail."

"Yes. Look alive, my lads. Now then!" cried Syd, "haul him out. Quick!"

The men gave a cheer, and hauling together, they ran the writhing monster right out of the water, and over the edge of the natural pier, fifty feet or so up among the loose rocks, where it leaped and bounded and pranced about for a few minutes in a way which forbade approach.

Then there was a loud cheer as Rogers seized his opportunity, and brought down the axe he had snatched up with so vigorous a stroke on the creature's back, about a couple of feet above the great lobe of the tail, that the vertebra was divided, and from that moment the violent efforts to get free lost their power.

It was an easy task now to give the savage monster its coup de grace, and as it lay now quivering and beyond doing mischief, the men set up another cheer and crowded round.

"There," cried Rogers, "that means shark steak for dinner, lads, and—"

"Sail ho!" came from above; and the shark was forgotten as the words sent an electric thrill through all.

"Come on, Roylance!" cried Syd, climbing up the rope-ladder to run and get his glass.

"Ay, ay," cried Roylance, following.

"Let's get a better hold with the rope, mates," said Rogers, "and haul the beggar right up on deck. They're artful beggars is sharks, and if we leave him here he'd as like as not to come to life, shove a few stitches in the cut in his tail, and go off to sea again."

The men laughed, and the prize was hauled right up to the perpendicular wall below the tackle, willing hands making the quivering mass fast, and hauling it right up into the gap, and beyond all possibility of its again reaching the sea.



CHAPTER FORTY.

A good deal had been done to make the way easy, but still it was an arduous and hot climb up to the flagstaff, on his way to which Syd had found time, in case they had not heard, to announce the sail in sight to Mr Dallas and the boatswain.

There it was, sure enough, a vessel in full sail right away in the east; and as Syd gazed at it through the glass, his spirits sank.

"It isn't the Sirius," he said, as he handed the glass to Roylance.

"No, sir," said the man on the look-out; "she's a Frenchy, I think."

"How do you know it isn't the Sirius?" said Roylance, as he used the glass.

"Because her masts slope more than those do," replied Syd, and then he felt how ignorant he was, and how old Strake would have told the nationality of a vessel "by the cut of her jib," as he would have termed it. His musings were interrupted by Roylance.

"Yes, I think she's a French ship," he said. "Bound for Saint Jacques, evidently, and I dare say she'll come by here."

"Well, we can't stop her," said Syd, shortly, for he felt annoyed that his companion should know so much more of seafaring matters than he.

"No," replied Roylance; "but she can stop us perhaps. I should not be surprised if she is coming on purpose; for the people, you see, must know we have taken possession of this rock, and that is why all shipping has kept away."

"Perhaps so," said Syd, a little more testily, for it was painful to be so ignorant. "Well, I suppose we can do nothing."

"Do nothing? Well, you are at the head of affairs; but if it was my case I should go and have a word with the lieutenant, and take his advice."

These were his words of wisdom, and Syd hurried down to the hospital and reported.

"And me a-lying here like a log," muttered the boatswain.

"In all probability a French man-of-war come to see what we mean by settling down here. Well, Mr Belton," said the lieutenant, "I do not suppose it means fighting; but, if I were you, I should get out my ammunition, and have it well up to the guns."

"Why don't you tell me to do it, sir?" cried Sydney, humbly.

"Because the command has fallen upon you, my lad; and I'm only a poor feeble creature, hardly able to lift an arm. Come; you have no time to spare. Draw up your ropes, beat to quarters, and if the enemy does come near, and send a boat to land, you can warn them off."

"And if they will not go, sir?"

"Send a shot over their heads."

"And if they don't go then?"

"Send one through their boat."

"But that will hurt somebody, sir."

"I hope so," said the lieutenant, dryly. "Why, Strake, what are you doing?" he continued, excitedly, as the boatswain slowly sat up, uttering a groan as he lowered down his feet.

"On'y going to see to that there ammunition, sir. There's no gunner aboard, and some one ought to do it."

"But you are too weak and ill, my man."

"I shall be weaker and iller ever so much, sir, if I stop here," said the boatswain. "Oh, I arn't so very bad."

"But really, my man—"

"Don't stop me, your honour, sir. How could I look his father in the face again if I didn't lend a hand just when it's wanted most?"

"Well, I cannot stop you, Strake," said the lieutenant. "I only wish I could stir. I could do nothing but take up the men's strength, and make them carry me about. Go on, Mr Belton; play a bold part, and recollect you are acting in the King's name."

Syd flushed up, and went to work at once. The preparations did not take long. The rope-ladder was hauled up and stowed away, the men were called to quarters, ammunition served out under the boatswain's orders, and the guns loaded. Every man had his cutlass, and the British colours had been laid ready for hoisting at a moment's notice.

When these arrangements had been made, Syd took Roylance and Terry into consultation, and asked them if there was anything else that could be done.

Neither could suggest anything, for the water-casks were filled, the stores were up in safety, and the men had a supply of fresh fish, in the shape of the shark just caught—a toothsome dainty that some sailors consider excellent for a change.

All was ready; every man at his post; and after buckling on his dirk, Syd thought to himself, "What an impostor I am! What impudence it is for me to pretend to command these men!"

But as he went out amongst them, somehow it did not seem as if they thought so. There was a bright eagerness in their faces, and whenever he spoke it was to be answered with a cheery "Ay, ay, sir!" and his orders were executed with alacrity.

It was a small party to command, if this should prove to be a French man-of-war come to dispute the right of the English to this rocky speck off their possessions.

But the matter was soon to be proved. From time to time Syd climbed to the flagstaff to watch the stranger, which was approaching fast, and also to sweep the distant horizon in search of help in what promised to be his dire need.

And here it may as well be stated that in planting his garrison on the rock, it had been the intention of Captain Belton—an idea endorsed by his consort—to let a party of his men hold the place, so as to keep any party from Saint Jacques from taking possession, and from thence annoying his ships. Such a venture could only be made with boats from the town, and these he felt that it would be easy for the little garrison to beat off. It never entered into his calculations that the rock could be attacked by a man-of-war, for he and his consort would be there watching the channel which led up to the town, and theirs would be the duty to repel any formidable attack.

The gale, which had risen to a hurricane, changed all this, and that upon which the captain did not count had come to pass.

For a French frigate was sailing steadily up the broad channel—a vessel whose captain was evidently quite at home among the coral reefs and shoals which spread far and near, and its nearing was watched with eager eyes.

From time to time Roylance was sent to report the state of affairs to Mr Dallas, who lay on his rough couch, apparently quite calm and confident, but with a red patch burning in either cheek, as he bitterly felt his helplessness and inability to do more than give a word or two of advice. But this advice he did give, when the frigate was about a mile off.

"We are so weak here," he said to Roylance, "that Mr Belton had better keep his men well out of sight, and not invite inquiry or molestation. The vessel may not be coming here, and if they see no one will pass on."

Roylance communicated this to Syd.

"But there is one thing they will see," he said.

"What?"

"The flagstaff."

"Yes; I had forgotten that, and it is too late to take it down; the men would be seen."

All this time the frigate was steadily approaching, for if her course was to reach the town that slept so calmly in the sunshine, she would come within about half a mile of the rock as she passed.

The orders were given for the men to keep out of sight at the lower gun, the heavy piece being drawn back from the opening in the stone wall built up in front; and Roylance, who had charge there, lay down behind a piece of rock, where he could watch the vessel's course.

Syd went on himself to the upper gun, after bidding the man at the flagstaff keep out of sight.

Terry was walking up and down impatiently as the lad approached, and the latter looked at him wonderingly, for only a short time before they had parted apparently the best of friends.

"Look here, Mr Belton," said Terry, losing not a moment in developing his new grievance, "I want to know why Roylance has been sent down to the lower gun, where the work is of more importance than this."

"More importance?" said Syd.

"Yes; I suppose you have been advised to do it as a slight upon me. You would not have done it of your own accord."

"I was not advised to do anything of the kind," said Syd, quietly; "I did what I thought was best. If there is any difference in the two posts, this is the more important, because every one would have to retreat here in case the lower gun was taken."

"Surely I ought to know which is the more important, sir," cried Terry, loudly, "and I see now it is a question of favouritism or friendliness. But I shall protest against it, and so I tell you."

"There is no time to discuss such a matter as this now, Mr Terry," said Syd. "You are to hold this gun in readiness to cover the retreat if the lower work becomes untenable; and now you must keep yourself and men hidden, and the gun drawn back."

"What for?" said Terry, with asinine obstinacy.

"I cannot stop to explain why."

"But I insist, sir. Am I to play the part of coward without having the privilege of knowing why such a distasteful course is to be adopted? I am sure if Mr Dallas knew—"

"Do as you're told, sir," cried Syd, warmly. "Not a man is to be seen. Run that gun in, my lads."

Then, as the order was obeyed, much to Terry's disgust, Syd said quietly—

"The men are to keep out of sight, so that the French ship may pass on. You understand?"

"Oh, yes: I understand," sneered Terry, as Syd went away, and then crept up under the shelter of the side of one of the rifts to the flagstaff, where he lay down beside the watch and opened his glass, so that he was able to examine the coming vessel at his ease.

Twenty-eight guns he counted, and as he kept on watching he could even see the movements of the men on deck. All calm and quiet there; the men in knots, the officers seated, or leaning over the side. There could be no doubt about it; the man-of-war was on a peaceable mission, as far as the rock was concerned, and would pass on.

Once or twice Sydney saw an officer glance in his direction, but only to turn away again. But he made no report to any one else, and the frigate sailed on in the hot evening sunshine.

Syd felt his spirits rise. He had proved himself to be no coward, though he shrank from the awful responsibility of giving orders or committing acts which might cause the shedding of blood. The Frenchman was sailing steadily on, and the lad drew his breath more freely, as he said, almost unconsciously, to the man watching by his side—

"There'll be no fighting, my lad."

"Well, sir," replied the man, who happened to be Rogers, "I dunno as I want to fight. If I'm told to, course I shall, but it takes a lot with me to get my monkey up; and I'd rather look like a coward any day than have to fire at a man or give him a chop with my cutlash."

"Quite right, Rogers. I don't think those who bounce most are the bravest. How bright and clean it looks on board ship! I wonder how soon the Sirius will come back. Ah, there she goes," he continued, as he used the glass, "sailing straight away for Saint Jacques; one could almost like to be in her for a change. Hallo!"

He looked eagerly through his glass at the passing ship, and became suddenly aware of the fact that something had attracted the attention of the officers of the French frigate, for one of the men went up quickly to an officer on the quarter-deck, and through the glass Sydney could see the gold lace of his uniform glisten as he raised one hand and pointed at the rock.

"How vexatious!" said Syd, aloud; "that officer must have seen the flagstaff."

"No, sir; I don't think so," said Rogers.

"Nonsense, man! they have seen it. Look, they're throwing the ship up in the wind, and—yes—they're going to lower a boat. Look at the men swarming across the deck like ants. They must have seen the flagstaff. What a pity it was not taken down!"

"Beg pardon, sir; I don't think it was the flagstaff."

"What, then? They couldn't see the guns."

"No, sir; but they could have seen Mr Terry."

"How? Why?"

"He got up on the gun-carriage, and stood down below there, staring out to sea."

Syd lowered the glass and changed his position, so that he could look down into the little stone-built fort, where the upper gun was placed, and there, sure enough, was Terry in the act of getting down from the gun-carriage.

"Why, what can he mean by that?"

"Dunno, sir," said the man, bluntly. "He's a orficer; but if it had been one of us we should precious soon know."

"What do you mean?" cried Sydney, uneasily.

"Only, sir, as you orficers would call it treachery, and it might mean yard-arm."



CHAPTER FORTY ONE.

Treachery or only spite, which could it be? Syd felt a sensation of cold running through him as he raised the glass again and watched the frigate, for he felt that perhaps after all he might have been mistaken, and the sailor lying by him too. Terry was an officer and a gentleman. He had a horrible temper; he was as jealous and overweening as could be, but it seemed impossible that he could so degrade himself as to be guilty of an act that was like a betrayal of his brother officers and the men.

But it was no mistake as far as the frigate was concerned. She had rounded to, her sails were beginning to flap, and amidst the scene of bustle on deck a boat was lowered, and the next minute it was seen gliding away from the vessel's side, filled by a smart crew whose oars seemed to be splashing up golden water as the sun sank and got more round. There were two officers in the stern, and now and then something flashed which looked like weapons, and a second glance showed that they were the swords of the officers and the guns of the marines.

"We are seen, sure enough," said Syd. "Be ready with the colours, Rogers," he added aloud. "Hoist them the moment you hear me shout."

"Ay, ay, sir. But it may only be a bit o' parley voo, and no fighting arter all."

"I hope not," thought Syd, as he hurried down the rift, avoiding Terry's work, and making straight for the lieutenant's quarters, where he flinched from telling of Terry's actions, and contented himself by saying what he had seen.

"Well, Mr Belton," said the lieutenant, with a slight flush coming into his pale face, "you are a King's officer in command, but you know the captain's wishes; and, boy as you are, sir, you must do what we all do under such trying circumstances—act like a man."

"And—"

Syd ceased speaking, and asked the remainder of his question with his eyes.

"Yes, sir, fire upon them, if necessary. If that boat is from a French man-of-war, her men must not land."

Syd drew in a long breath, nodded shortly, and was going out without a word.

"Stop!" cried the lieutenant. "Take off that plaything, my dear lad, and buckle on my sword. That's right, take up a hole or two in the belt as you go. Here's a motto for your crest when you sport one, 'Belton—Belt on'! Now God bless you, my lad! Do your duty for your own and your father's sake."

There was a quick grasp of the hand, and Syd ran out, fastening on the sword-belt as he went, and feeling rather a curious sensation in the throat as he mentally exclaimed—"I will."

The men were lying down by the breastwork of the lower gun as he trotted over the slope, and to his surprise he found the boatswain seated on a piece of stone with his face puckered up, watching Pan whom he had just sent up to the magazine.

"Well: what news?" said Roylance, eagerly. "Are they gone?"

Every eye was fixed on Syd, as he replied—

"No; a boat is coming ashore, and they must make for here. We can hear what they have to say, but they must not land."

A thrill seemed to run through the men, who lay ready to jump up and work the gun, and at a glance Sydney saw that their arms were all ready, and half the men were stripped for action.

"It is a French frigate?" said Roylance. "Yes."

"Then who is to talk to them? Can you?"

"I know the French I learned at school."

"Well, I know that much," said Roylance. "I can make them understand, but I don't know about understanding them."

"Begging your pardon, gentlemen," said Strake, with a grim smile, "you needn't trouble 'bout that 'ere. I've got a friend here as there isn't a Frenchy afloat as don't understand."

"Whom do you mean, Strake?" said Syd, as he looked sharply at the boatswain.

"This here, sir," he said, patting the breech of the cannon. "On'y let her open her mouth and bellow; they'll know it means keep off." The men laughed. "Is the gun loaded?"

"Yes, sir, with a round shot; but I've got grape and canister ready."

This began to look like grim warfare, and Syd stood there waiting in silence, and gazing out seaward for the coming of the boat.

From the little battery the extent visible was rather limited, for the rock rose up high to right and left. The French frigate was right behind them, plain to be seen from the upper gun, the steep slope downward shutting it out from the lower.

A full half-hour glided by, but there was no sign of the enemy, and the men lay waiting with the sun now beating full upon them with such power that the rock grew almost too hot to touch.

"If they don't look sharp and come," said Strake, moving the lantern he had with him more into the shade, "my candle here will melt into hyle, and that there gun 'ill begin to speak French without being touched."

"Surely the sun has not power enough to light the charge, Strake."

"Well, sir, I never knowed it done yet," said the boatswain, dubiously.

Another quarter of an hour passed away, and Roylance exclaimed—

"Can there be any other place where they could land?"

"No," said Syd, "I feel sure not."

"Then why are they so long?"

"Don't know the rock, and they are rowing to search all round for a place, the same as we did."

Still the long-drawn-out space of time went slowly, and doubts began to intrude which made Syd glance anxiously up to right and left, as he thought how helpless they would be should they be taken in rear or flank.

"Make a good fight for it all the same," said Roylance, who read his looks. "But I don't see how they could land anywhere round the rock without men on the cliff top to help them."

"Terry would not do that," thought Syd, and he glanced sharply round to gaze above him at the upper gun.

He blushed at the thought, as he saw the young officer there, evidently engaged in looking out to sea.

"Think the man up yonder by the flagstaff can see them?" said Roylance, after another weary wait.

Sydney shook his head.

"I say, oughtn't we to hoist the colours, Belton?"

"Rogers will run them up when I make him a signal. We don't want to challenge them to fight, only to defend the rock against all comers."

"Gettin' hungry, mate?" whispered one of the men to the lad next him.

"No: why?"

"'Cause this side o' me's 'most done."

There was a laugh.

"Silence!" cried Syd, and then in the same breath, "Here they are!"

For the bows of the frigate's boat, which had been right round the rock, suddenly appeared from the left with one of the officers standing up in the stern-sheets; and as they came on he suddenly pointed toward the natural pier, and the men, who had just been dipping their oars lightly, gave way.

As they came on the party in the little battery could see the French officers searching the opening with their eyes, and eagerly talking together; but they did not hesitate, apparently not realising that the place had been put in a state of defence, for the gun was drawn back, and the embrasure was of so rugged a construction that it did not resemble the production of a military engineer.

They ran their boat close alongside of the little pier, and one of the officers was about to spring out, when Syd shouted forth deeply as he could, as he stood on the breastwork.

"Hallo!"

The officer looked up sharply, smiled, waved his hand, gave an order to the sailors in the boat, and a dozen well-armed men sprang out.

"Halte!" shouted Syd again.

"Aha!" cried the French officer, leading his men forward. "Nous sommes des amis."

"Oh, etes-vous?" cried Syd. "I dare say you are, but you can't land here. Back to your boat. Allez-vous-en!"

"Mais non!" said the French officer politely, and he still came on, smiling.

"This rock belong to his Britannic Majesty, the King of England. Waistcoat a nous, Monsieur. Allez-vous-en."

"Mais non," said the French officer. "En avant!"

"Nous allons donner le feu—Fire at you—Fire!" shouted Syd, and he leaped backward into the fort perfectly astounded. For Strake did not understand French, but he thoroughly comprehended English, and as he heard his commanding officer say fire! and then more loudly, fire! he clapped his slow match to the touch-hole of the cannon, whose mouth was about a foot from the embrasure; there was a burst of flame and smoke, a deafening roar which threatened to bring down the rocks to right and left, and as Syd looked through the smoke he could see the French officer and his men running back to the boat.

"Strake, you shouldn't have fired," he cried, excitedly.

"You give orders," growled the boatswain; "and there was no time to haim. Shot went skipping out to sea.—Be smart, my lads," he continued, as the men who had sprung to their places wielded sponge and rammer, and this time ran the gun out so that its muzzle showed over the rough parapet.

By this time Syd had made a sign, and Rogers quickly ran the colours up the flagstaff, where they were blown out fully by the breeze.

"Don't find fault," whispered Roylance, wiping the tears from his eyes. "What a game! See that little French officer fall down?"

"No."

"He caught his foot in a stone. Look at them now."

Syd looked down at where on the pier the French officers were gesticulating and talking loudly; the gist of their debate being, should they try to take the battery or put off, and the majority seemed to be in favour of the latter proceeding. For as they eagerly scanned the little battery they could see now the frowning muzzle of the gun, and the heads of a number of English sailors apparently ready to fire again, this time probably with better effect.

One officer seemed to be for coming on. The other thought evidently that discretion was the better part of valour, for he looked up at the colours on the flagstaff, then down at the battery, and then finally gave orders to the men to re-embark. But this was too much for the spirit of the other, who after a few sharp words took out a white handkerchief, tied it to the blade of his sword, and held it up, advancing with it in his hand till he was just below the gun, and at the foot of the cliff wall.

"Messieurs," he said, politely, "I speak not ze Angleesh as you do. I you make me understand?"

"Oui—yes," said Syd, who had again mounted the rough wall.

"It is good," said the French officer. "You make fire upon us. Yes?"

"Yes; we fired."

"You—you teach me yourself, vat ze diable you make here?"

"We hold this place as a possession of the King of England," replied Sydney. "Can you understand?"

"Parfaitement, sare. Zen I tell you I go back to my sheep, and me come and blow you all avay. Au revoir!"

"Au revoir, Monsieur," said Syd, exchanging bows with the French officer, who went back to the boat, sprang on board, the men pushed off, and the little garrison gave them a cheer.

"Thank goodness that's over," said Syd, taking off his hat to wipe his brow, as he leaped back into the battery.

"Over?" said Roylance, "not till they have been back and blown us all away."

"Beg pardon, sir," said the boatswain, "but I 'member now nuff of my old work years ago to be able to send a round shot right through that there boat, if you'll give the word."

"No, no, Strake.—There, you keep your men ready in case they do come back, Roy," whispered Syd; "I'll go up and report matters to Mr Dallas."



CHAPTER FORTY TWO.

"Could not have happened better," said the lieutenant, as he was put in possession of all particulars. "The accident happened well, and gave them a lesson in our strength that may make them think twice before attacking us."

"Then you think they will attack us?"

"Sorry to say I have no doubt about it, and since I have been lying here I have come to the conclusion that it would be better to bring that upper gun down, and mount it about twenty feet from the other. The attack must come from the lower end. If, however, they could land, and tried to scale the rocks at the top of the gap, you would have to defend the upper battery the best way you could. Even if you had a gun there you could not get more than one shot. Haul it down at once."

Syd went off and communicated the result of his conversation to Roylance and Strake.

"Yes, I think he's right," said the former. "Eh, Strake?"

"Right, sir; why of course he is. I felt that when we got the guns up, only it warn't for me to give my 'pinion. Speaking in parabolas like, what I say is, that the t'other gun's worth twopence up there, but down here it 'll be worth a hundred pound or more. Start at once, sir?"

"Yes, directly.—Roylance, will you see to making a platform and running up a breastwork, while the bo'sun gets down the gun?"

All hands were soon at work, and meanwhile Syd had gone up to the flagstaff with a glass to see that the boat was half-way back to the French frigate.

"What will they do?" thought Syd. "Make sail and come and batter us with their guns, or send out three or four boats?"

He waited patiently till the Frenchmen were alongside, and he watched the officers through the glass go on the quarter-deck and make their report to their captain.

"Now, then," said Syd, half-aloud, "which is it to be—boats, or come up abreast of us?"

"Make sail, sir," said Rogers. "They're coming down on us to give us a dusting with their guns. There'll be some chips o' rock flying far to-night.—And something more for you to do, my lad," he muttered to himself, as he recalled the lieutenant's injury.

Syd made no answer, and stood watching the French vessel's sails gradually begin to fill and make her careen over.

"Here she comes," said Rogers; then, respectfully, "They won't have half time to get that gun into place, will they, sir?"

"No, Rogers, no," said Syd, thoughtfully; "but look, she's changing her course."

It was so indeed, for the French frigate curved gracefully around, and went off on her old course toward the town of Saint Jacques.

Syd rubbed his eyes and stared, while Rogers in his excitement slapped both his legs, shouting derisively—"Yah! Cowards! G'ome!" and then darted to the flagstaff and began to haul the colours down a few feet, and just as his young officer was about to stop him, seized the second line and jigged them up again in a sort of dance that was intended in mockery of the captain and crew of the departing frigate.

"That will do there," cried Syd, sharply.

"Beg pardon, sir," cried the sailor, starting away from the flagstaff; "but for them to go away like that. The old chaps aboard were always bragging that they could lick three Parlyvoos, but arter what I've seed to-day, I'm ready to tackle six. I don't say I'd lick 'em, but I'd have a good try."

"Don't judge them too soon," said Syd, quietly; and he went down to the hospital and reported everything to the lieutenant.

"Well," he said, "what do you think of it, Mr Belton—that you've frightened them away with one gun?"

"No, sir; I think they've gone for help."

"Or else to report, and perhaps deliver despatches."

"Yes, sir; think we shall have them back?"

"Not a doubt about it, Mr Belton. We laugh at and brag about our superiority over the Frenchmen; but with all their chatter and gesticulation and show, they know how to fight, and can fight bravely and well. Get your other gun ready and keep the sharpest of look-outs, as they'll be down upon you before you know where you are. What's the matter yonder," he continued, raising his head and listening; "Mr Terry in hot water again? We don't want trouble among ourselves. You are wanted there, commandant."

Syd hurried out and found Terry up by the battery he had had in charge, furiously refusing to let the men under Roylance remove the gun.

"Ah, you are there," he cried, savagely, and with his face convulsed with passion. "It is a trick of yours to deprive me of my chance of distinguishing myself in this wretched hole."

"It is nothing of the kind, Mr Terry," said Syd, quietly; "but are you mad to go on like this before the men?"

"I should be mad if I held my tongue, and let every puppy of a boy be placed over me to insult me. I say the gun shall not be moved."

"It is for the proper defence of the place."

"It is a piece of insolence to annoy me."

"You would have charge of the gun in its fresh place."

"I don't believe it," cried Terry, in his rage. "This is the gun's place. It shall not be moved."

"Silence, sir!" cried Syd, flushing up, and something of his father's stern way giving him an older and firmer look. "I gave orders for the gun to be taken down. Mr Roylance, be smart with your men."

"It shall not be done," cried Terry. "I say—"

"And I say, sir," said Syd in an angry whisper, "that if you are not silent, I'll put you in arrest; yes, and tied hand and foot for your treachery of an hour or two ago."

Terry's jaw dropped, and he turned ashy in hue as he shrank away.

"Look here, sir," continued Syd, "you will no longer have charge of that gun, but act under Mr Roylance's orders when I am not there. Fight like a man, and do your duty, and I may forget to report your conduct to the captain. Go on as you are behaving now, and everything shall be known."

A curiously vindictive look shot from Terry's eyes as his hand involuntarily played with the butt of the pistol he had in his belt.

Syd saw it, and continued—

"Another such threat as that, sir, and you will be disarmed."

Terry walked away and stood aside, gazing out to sea, while Syd could not help thinking that if his messmate had a favourable opportunity and could do it unseen, he would not scruple to use his pistol, or to push him over the steep cliff.

The thoughts were dismissed directly and forgotten in the busy toil, the men rigging up the tackle, dismounting the gun, and packing it once more in one of the water-casks, ready for rolling down to the new platform, which was slowly progressing, but not yet ready for its reception. So the one party was piped to refreshments, after which, the place being declared sufficiently advanced, the second party took the place of the first for rest and food, while with a cheer the gun-carriage was dragged below, then the tackle was rigged over it, and the gun rolled down, hauled into its place, and by the time darkness had quite set in, the fresh one-gun battery was in working order.

"Where's Terry?" said Syd, about this time.

"Sulking," said Roylance, laughing. "What did you say to him? You are getting an awfully great fellow, Belton, to calm him down like that. I say, how old are you?"

"Nearly seventeen. Why?"

"Are you sure it isn't a mistake?"

"Quite."

"Because you are going on over this like a fellow of twenty-seventeen. What do you think one of the men said just now?"

"How should I know?"

"He said that when this little job was over you ought to be promoted and have a ship of your own, and old Strake turned upon him sharply to say, 'Well, why not?'"

"I? A ship!" laughed Syd; "and this is my first voyage. Why, you have been three."

"Yes, but then your people have always been sailors, and it's born with you. My father's a clergyman. Well, when you do have a ship by and by, if you don't have me for first luff, I'll call you a brute."

"Wait twenty years, then, till I get my ship," said Syd; and he went off to see to the watch.



CHAPTER FORTY THREE.

That was an anxious night; and after a sort of council of war at the hospital, in which the lieutenant, Roylance, and Strake took part with Syd, it was determined to have all ready for a retreat to the upper battery, and in case that should be taken, provisions and water were to be carried at daybreak up to the flagstaff, where a breastwork had already been made, plenty of broken masses of rock lying about to strengthen it, so that it would be a fresh position for the crew of the French frigate to attack.

Syd was not at all surprised soon after daybreak—when the men were busy strengthening the empty battery, and others were building up the breastwork about the flagstaff and conveying up stores—to see the frigate coming back in full sail.

There was plenty of excitement as the enemy was seen, and the men thoroughly realised the fact that the day's work before them would be no light task.

"Seems to do one more good, though, Master Syd, sir," said Strake, as they were together alone. "Lying down, and bein' helped, and strapped and lashed 's all very well, but the sight o' one's nat'ral enemy 'pears to spurt you up like, and if it had only been a month longer, strikes me as we should have had the lufftenant helping of us again."

"Have you seen Mr Terry about?"

"No, sir; 'pears to have struck work like. Beg pardon, sir; but seeing as some on us may be gone to Davy Jones's locker 'fore night—not meaning you, o' course, but him—wouldn't it be handsome-like to go and make friends, and offer him your hand?"

"I have done so more than once, Strake," said Syd, sternly, as he recalled the midshipman's action on the previous day, "but I can't do it again."

"All right, sir, you knows best, o' course," said the boatswain, and he went off to his duty.

The men worked hard, and by the time the frigate was close in there were the provisions and water in the upper battery, and a good supply in the works about the flagstaff.

"You can do no more, Belton," said Mr Dallas. "I don't want to discourage you, but without help from sea we can only manage to hold out as long as possible, and give the enemy a tough job, for Old England's sake. Are the colours flying well?"

"Yes, sir, splendidly."

"That's right, then. Now, one word of advice; don't fire a shot at the frigate. With your two guns you can do her very little harm. Save your powder for the boats—round shot when they are coming to the shore, and grape as they are landing. Keep your men cool, and only let them fire when there is a good chance."

Bang!

The first shot from seaward followed by a crash, and the sound of stones falling as the frigate tried her range, and sent a heavy ball against the side of the gap.

"Did not know she was so near," said the lieutenant.

"But about you, sir? Shall I have you carried up to the flagstaff?"

"Certainly not, my lad, never mind me. Go and do your duty. God save the King!"

"God save the King!" echoed Syd, as he shook hands with the lieutenant, and hurried down to the little battery, to find that the frigate had drawn as close in as she could, but dared not come right in front of the gap, for her boat out sounding had discovered a reef right opposite. So after firing a few shots obliquely, all of which struck the north side of the gap, she made sail and went round to the other side of the reef, where disappointment again awaited her captain; for here again he could only fire obliquely, and send the stones rattling down on the south side of the gap.

But he went on firing for about an hour before shifting his position once more, and then feeling his way in exactly opposite, but quite out of range.

This was an unexpected change in favour of the defender, for though when they were freshly come it had been noticed that the sea ran high a quarter of a mile out from the lower end of the gap, the existence of a reef was not suspected, and it was some time before the defenders could thoroughly believe that the frigate could not get into position for sweeping the little gully from end to end.

Again the frigate's position was changed, and fire opened.

"We ought to shake hands on this," cried Roylance. "Fire away, Monsieur, knock down the rocks; it's all good for the powder and ball trade."

"And doesn't frighten us a bit," added Syd, who for the moment forgot his important position, and its seriousness. "Haven't you seen Terry yet?"

"No."

"And I arn't seen my boy Pan, gen'lemen," said the boatswain—"My word, that was a good one," he interpolated, as a heavy shot struck the rock about twenty feet below the flagstaff, and a good ton of stones came rattling down—"strikes me as that boy's a-showing the white feather, gen'lemen, and it goes home to my 'art."

"The boy's wounded, Strake; don't be too hard on him."

"Not so bad but what he might ha' done powder-monkeying with one hand. But there's a deal o' vartue in rope's-ends arter all, and if I gets through to-day—"

"You'll forgive him. What are they doing now?" Syd shouted to the man at the look-out, for the frigate was once more close in, south of the little pier, and had for half an hour been blazing away, but doing not the slightest harm.

"Getting her boats out, sir."

"Preparing to board, sir," cried Strake. "Round shot first as they come on?"

"But the boats will be close in before we can get a shot at them, and there will not be time to reload," said Syd. "It is not as if they were going to row straight in, so that we could see them for some time first. It must be grape."

"Grape it is, sir. Right," cried Strake, and the guns were charged accordingly.

The men's orders were that they should wait till the enemy were well in by the little pier, then to fire, and as there would not be time to reload, they were to seize their cutlasses and pikes and be ready for the attacking party, who would undoubtedly swarm up to the foot of the rock wall, provided with spars, or something in the way of tackle, to enable them to scale the place, when the desperate fighting must begin.

They were not long kept in waiting after the guns had been depressed, and their muzzles brought to bear well upon the only spot where the boats could land their men—the wreck moored close in limiting the space. And it turned out as Syd had imagined: the boats—three—came as close in as the submerged rocks would allow, and they were still out of sight when the defenders heard a shout, and first one and then another rowed into sight, making for the landing-place. Then came the third, as, thinking it a pity to have to give so terrible an order, Syd shouted "Fire!" with the result that the closely-packed charge from the first gun went right through one boat, leaving her crew struggling in the water; and the shot from the second gun completely tore off the bows of the third boat, but not until her crew was so near land that they were able to pilot the boat a few yards farther before she sank, her men literally tumbling one over the other into the deck-less hull of the water-logged wreck.

The other boat got up to the pier in safety after her crew had held out oars and boat-hooks to their drowning comrades, and so all got to shore; the rush and beating of the water, and its churning up by the grape-shot having scattered the sharks for the moment.

All this gave the occupants of the battery more time than they had anticipated, and this was utilised in reloading, which was almost completed, when there was a word of command, a shout; and armed with cutlass, pistol, and boarding-pike, the Frenchmen dashed up gallantly to the wall, some stopping back to fire at the defenders, who were, however, too well sheltered to be hurt.

"Be ready with your arms, my lads," cried Syd, as he recalled stories of fights he had heard his father relate.

"Ay, ay, sir."

"Throw them back as fast as they get up."

"Ay, ay, sir!" came again heartily; but the enemies' heads did not appear above the edge, and though the loud buzzing and shouting of orders came up, there was no adversary.

It was not the men's fault, for they were at the bottom of a vast natural wall, which towered up from fifteen to twenty feet, and so smooth that there was not the slightest foothold to enable them to climb.

The officer who had come up to it before with a flag of truce had in his excitement omitted to notice the difficulty, and consequently neither rope nor spar had been brought; and though the men clambered and shouted and made brave efforts to mount upon each other's shoulders, fortunately for them they were not able to get up far enough to be sent down with a cut on the head.

The shouting and confusion lasted for some time, during which the defenders crouched in safety behind their breastwork, and waited.

At last, just as the officers were deciding upon withdrawing their men, and asking themselves what their fate would be if the English began to play upon them during their retreat to the one boat which was left, there was another cheer, and a reinforcement from the frigate appeared.

Strake sprang up to alter the level of the gun and take aim, but Syd stopped him.

"This one hasn't come to attack," he said, as he saw that the boat was only half manned; the captain having seen the misfortunes that had befallen his other boats, and sent this one on to afford his men a means of retreat.

For the attack was hopeless, and the officers gathered their men together, and despatched them in two parties to the little pier, the men moving with the greatest of regularity; and while a few kept up a running fire against the battery, the others embarked.

"Now then, sir, give the word," whispered Strake, who was hoarse with excitement; "I can send a shot right through that there boat."

"What for?" said Syd, coldly. "They are retreating, and we don't want to stop them and make them prisoners."

"But they're our mortial enemies, sir," cried the boatswain, aghast.

"Let them go," said Syd; and as the boats pushed off, with the frigate recommencing its useless fire to cover the retreat, the defenders of the little natural fort gave a hearty cheer.

"We don't want a lot of bloodshed, Roy," said Syd, as they congratulated one another over the refreshment they were glad to take.

"No; but I suppose we ought to have slaughtered a lot of them. We could."

"My father used to tell my uncle, the admiral, that he was the greatest commander who could achieve a victory with the smallest loss of life."

"Yes, sir," said a gruff voice behind him; "but I've know'd your father send some awful broadsides and rakings into the enemy's ships. Why, when we've gone aboard arter to take the furren captain's sword, I've seed their deck all slippery with blood."

"And I'm glad those stones are not."

"Very well, sir, if you're satisfied, I am; but I want to know what's gone o' my Pan. Hasn't hidden hisself in that water-cave, has he?"

"I have not seen him," said Syd, and with Roylance he climbed up to the flagstaff to see the enemy's two crowded boats return to the frigate's side, after which the French captain made a slight change in his position; and as they watched they saw two fresh boats lowered and row away, and then they were recalled.

Then came a long spell of waiting in miserable inaction till toward sunset, when the two boats put out again, spent a little time sounding close up to the rocks where Roylance was rescued, and were again recalled.

"What does that mean, sir?" said Syd, as he told all this to the lieutenant, who, as he lay helpless, eagerly listened to every word.

"I don't quite see, my lad," he said. "A trick, probably, to take off your attention. But be well on your guard, for, depend upon it, they will try to surprise you to-night, and come prepared with ladders of some kind for the escalade."



CHAPTER FORTY FOUR.

The night was brilliant starlight, and the strictest watch was kept, but hour after hour went by, and there was not a sound; no dark shadow creeping over the water from the frigate, which lay anchored, with her lights showing reflections on the smooth sea.

Everything was in readiness to give the enemy a good reception if they came, and in spite of his weakness, the boatswain rose from where he lay on a folded-up sail beside one of the heaps of ball, to see if the light in the lanthorn by his head was burning, and handy for the slow matches to fire the guns.

"That there swab has gone down into his old hole by the water, sir, so as to save his skin," said Strake, on one of the occasions when Syd was going his rounds, "and here he might be o' no end of use saving his poor father. You won't say I arn't to use the rope's-end arter this, sir."

"Hadn't you better go up to the hospital and lie down, Strake?" replied Syd; "you are tired out."

"So are you, sir: so's all on us. But if I went and had a caulk just when the enemy might come, what should I say arterwards when I met the skipper?"

"But your injuries are such as sent you into hospital."

"Where I warn't going to stay, sir. Been up to the flagstaff, sir?"

"I have just come from there, and I have been with Mr Roylance, and had a talk with Mr Dallas. All's well."

"Seems well, Mr Syd, sir," whispered the boatswain, so as not to be heard by the men; "but I'm sure all aren't well. They're trying to dodge us, sir, and you see if they don't come and board us just afore daylight, when they think we're asleep. Tell them chaps at the look-out to keep their eyes open, and be on the kwe weave, as the Frenchies call it, for boats sneaking up in the dark. You've got two there."

"Yes, Strake, and each man has a glass, and those very instructions."

"What a horficer he will make," muttered the boatswain; and then the watch went on, with the men peering through the transparent darkness at the waves heaving over the little natural pier, and the bright stars broken up into spangles on the smooth surface of the sea.

"Rather queer about Terry," said Roylance in a whisper, as Syd joined him where he was leaning over the rough parapet, watching the surface for the first sign of the enemy.

"Very," said Syd.

"I can't understand it."

"I can," thought Syd, as he recalled what he had seen; and in the full belief that his messmate was heartily ashamed of his treacherous conduct of the previous day, he went softly up to find the lieutenant sleeping peacefully. He stood looking at him for a few moments, and then went up to the empty battery, to stand looking down over the precipice, before gazing up towards the flagstaff.

"All well, Rogers?" he said in a low, distinct voice.

"All well, sir," came back from far on high. "Nothing left the ship. We could ha' seen by the broken water. It brimes to-night, and we should have seen their oars stirring the water up."

Note: "brimes" means "is phosphorescent."

Syd went thoughtfully back, feeling so exhausted and drowsy that twice over he stumbled, and shook his head to get rid of the sleepy feeling, for it had been a terribly trying and anxious time.

"I'll go and talk to Strake," he said to himself; and pulling out a biscuit, he began to nibble it to take off the sensation of faintness from which he suffered, as he began wondering whether the French would attack them that night, or come prepared the next day with ladders to scale the natural wall which was their chief defence.

"All well, Strake?" he said, as he reached the place again where the boatswain was lying down.

"Ay, ay, sir."

"Halt! who goes there?"

"On'y me," cried a hoarse, excited voice, in a whisper, accompanied by a panting noise. "Where's father?"

"What, Pan-y-mar?" growled the boatswain. "Just you come here, you ugly-looking young swab."

"Hush, father!" whispered the boy, coming out of the darkness. "Give's a cutlash; the French is coming."

"What? Where?" said Syd, eagerly. "To your guns, my lads."

"No, no," cried the boy, in a hurried whisper. "Not that way; they're coming over the top there."

"He's been dreaming," growled the boatswain. "What d'yer mean, you dog?"

"I arn't been asleep," cried Pan, angrily; "and I'm so hungry."

"Tell me: what do you mean?" cried Syd.

"I've been a-watching o' Mr Terry, sir. He went down on the rocks over yonder, and I lay down and see him make signs to the French ship, and two boats come out and rowed in close to where he was a-hiding down in one o' them big cracks like I hid in and found the water."

"Yes; go on," whispered Syd, whose heart sank with apprehension.

"And he talked to 'em, and they talked to him, and then rowed back to the French ship."

"What did they say?"

"I dunno; I was too far off to hear."

"Well, go on."

"I thought he was up to some game, and I lay there and watched him, and I've been watching of him ever since, till to-night he crawled into the stores, after hiding all yes' afternoon and to-night, and I see him come creeping out again with a rope, and he put it over his shoulder. And then he climbed up one o' those cracks, and I went arter him, and he got right out there past the water-hole, and then crep' all along till he got to the place where you hauled Mr Roylance and t'other sailor up with a rope. And I crep' up close as I could, and lay there watching him hours till three boats come round from the other side, and then Mr Terry tied the end of the rope round a big block, and let the other end down, and I see a French sailor come up, and then another, and another, and they let down more rope, and they're all climbed up, and they're coming right up yonder over the top by the flag-post."

"How do you know?"

"'Cos I come that way first, and they was all coming close up arter me all the time, and I had to come on my hands and knees."

"Why didn't you come the other way, and give the alarm in front?"

"'Cos they've got lots o' fellows there with swords and pistols. I heard 'em cock."

"Yah! it's all a fancy," growled Strake; "he's scared, and dreamed it."

"I didn't," cried the boy.

"Couldn't climb up there," growled Strake.

"Yes, they could, Strake," cried Syd, excitedly. "Once they were on the rock they could climb up, and—yes, they'd come over by the flagstaff."

"I tell yer the young swab dreamt it."

"Ahoy! help!"

Bang! bang! Bang! bang!—Pistol-shots from high up by the flagstaff; and as the men seized their cutlasses and pistols, and, with Syd and Roylance at their head, advanced up the gap to meet this treacherous attack from the rear, there was the clash of steel, the sounds of struggling, then a momentary silence, followed by a few sharp orders, and the rattling noise of stones told that a strong party of men were coming down the rough path from the flagstaff.

"Forward, my lads!" cried Roy lance; "we may beat them back."

The men gave a cheer, and advanced quickly, the excitement of all taking them from the battery, which was left defenceless.

As they advanced, the old feeling of terror that he had always felt when about to engage in a school-fight was for a few moments in Sydney's breast; then the eager excitement carried all away, and, sword in hand, he ran on with his men.

Directly after there was the shock and confusion of the two parties meeting, with stray shots, the clatter of sword against sword, with sparks flying in the darkness, and the shouts and cheers of contending men.

What he did Syd never knew, for everything was centred in the one idea that he was leading his father's men, and that he must try and be brave. And if being brave meant rushing on with them right at the descending Frenchmen, he was brave enough.

So vigorous was the rush, and so desperate were the little English party at being surprised in so sudden a fashion, that the first group of the enemy were driven backward toward the path by which they had climbed down. But more and more were hurrying from above to their help, the officers threw themselves to the front, and the flight was stayed, while quite a series of single combats began to take place.

"Give it 'em, boys! Old England for ever!" was yelled out in the darkness, close by to where Syd was cutting and thrusting at an active little Frenchman. Then there came a groan, and the same voice said hoarsely—

"Oh, if I had my strength!"

"Hurrah, boys! they're giving way!" shouted Roylance. "Keep together, and over with them."

For in spite of the bravery of their officers, the French were yielding ground once more, and being slowly driven up the narrowing path. But there was a fresh burst of cheering, the hurry of feet, and about twenty of the French frigate's crew, who had taken advantage of the little garrison being attacked from the rear, and crept up to the cliff wall to scale it with a spar, one man going up with a rope which he had secured to a gun, soon turned the tables again.

With enemies before and behind triple their strength, and taking them in each case so thoroughly by surprise, the melee did not last long. Syd was conscious of seeing sparks after what seemed to be a loud clap of thunder above his head, and the next thing he knew was that Roylance was saying—

"Belt, lad, do, do try and speak."

"Speak? yes," he faltered. "What's the matter?"

"Matter! don't ask."

"But what does it mean? Where are we? Has Terry won?"

"My poor old fellow, you haven't been fighting Terry—yes, you have—a coward! he is with the French."

"And—" cried Syd, sitting up, "are we beaten?"

"Yes! no!" cried Roylance. "They're all down or prisoners—but eight of us here."

"Where are we?" said Syd, who felt sick and dizzy.

"Up in the little top battery, and they're coming on again. Stand by, lads!"

Syd rose to his feet as the men cheered, and stood with his sword hanging by the knot to his wrist, holding on by the rough stone wall, looking over into the starlit gloom at a body of French sailors apparently about to attack. Just then an officer stepped forward, and said, cheerily—

"Rendez-vous, mes braves. Parlez, vous!" he continued, turning to some one at his side.

"Here, you there!—the French officer says it's no use to fight any longer; he has taken the place, so give up."

"Terry!" cried Roylance; "you miserable traitor!" and the men around burst into a loud groan, and hooted the renegade.

"Yes, traitor!" cried Syd, excitedly; and forgetting his wound, "coward!"

"Coward yourself!" cried Terry. "Do you think I was going to stay in a service which compelled men to serve under a contemptible boy like you? Here, my lads, it's no use to resist. Give up, and you will have good treatment as prisoners. Come out."

"Do you hear, lads?" cried Roylance. "Will you do as the new English-French deserter says?"

"No!" roared the men; and Rogers' voice rose above them—"Say, lads, it's yard-arm for a desarter, eh?"

"Yes."

Terry turned away savagely, and they saw him saying something to the French officer—saw him dimly, as it seemed, then more plainly, for day was breaking with the rapidity of the change in the tropics; and as a movement took place, they all knew that a final assault was to be given, and must go against them.

Then the spirit of Syd's family seemed to send a flush through him; he forgot his pain, the sickness passed off, and he turned to gaze on the torn and blood-stained men about him.

"French and English," he cried, raising his sword.

"Hurray!" shouted the brave fellows; and every cutlass flashed as they prepared to defend their tiny stronghold, built up for the very emergency in which they were.

"Rendez, messieurs!" shouted the French officer, half appealingly.

"Non, non!" shouted Sydney, excitedly.

"En avant!" rang out the order, and with a rush the men came on in the rapidly increasing morning light.

At that moment the rocks echoed and quivered as a heavy gun thundered forth.



CHAPTER FORTY FIVE.

The advance was checked, and a man ran up to the flagstaff, to reach it at last, and then he shouted down something in French, which the occupants of the upper defence could not make out.

A second gun rolled forth its summons, and, giving an order, the French officer led his men toward the lower battery, where about twenty were halted, and busied themselves in turning one of the guns, so that it was pointed toward the upper battery, while the rest went down over the wall.

"What does it mean?" said Syd. "Are they going to blow us out of here?"

"No," said Roylance, "I think not. It is to occupy the place and keep us at bay. I'd give something to see what it all means. We're so shut up here, and can see nothing," he said, fretfully.

And it was so. They had a good view of the sea right out toward the town, but looking back they could see along the gap to their guns, which with the breastwork completely hid the landing-place.

"I'd give something to know what it all means."

"That gun meant the recall," said Roylance.

"If I could get to the flagstaff," said Syd.

"I think I could slip over at the back here," said Rogers; "climb along, and then crawl up."

"No, no, my lad; you'd break your neck."

"Oh, no, sir. You trust me."

"He can climb like a monkey, sir," said another of the men, who was binding up a wound.

"Then try," said Syd, after a glance upward to see that the French were not there.

The man slipped over the back directly, and crept along a narrow ledge that made them all feel giddy, but he got along in safety, and then creeping and climbing to the left of the regular path he disappeared in a rift.

"He'll do it now," said Roylance, who stood nursing one arm. "I say, Belt, as soon as you can I should be glad of a little help."

"Yes, I'll come directly," said Sydney; "but where are our other fellows?"

"All wounded or prisoners. The French have had the best of it this time. We shall be prisoners of war, lad."

"I wouldn't care, only we've lost the place, Roylance. Oh, how could an English fellow be so treacherous!"