great harbour, and below them boats, barges, and lighters swinging
from the great rusty iron rings and mooring posts of the quay.

"Vat you say to dat?" cried the waiter, turning round to face his
companions, beginning loudly and ending in a choking whisper, for he had
met a gust of wind face to face which stopped him for the moment from
taking his breath and forced him to turn his back and make a snatch at
the corner of one of the warehouses. "Faith of a good man!" he panted.
"The vind blow me inside out! Aha! What did I say?"

"Capital!" panted Rodd, almost as breathlessly as the waiter, at whom
upon any other occasion he would have burst out into a roar of laughter,
so grotesque was his appearance with the white napkin tied under his
chin. "Oh, this is a splendid place!"

"Here, you look out, Pickle," cried Uncle Paul. "Lay hold of something,
or we shall be blown right off."

"All right, uncle. Why, if one of those gusts sent us into the harbour
we should be drowned."

"Come a little farther this way, then, and if the wind is too much for
us, why we shall only go down into this barge."

At that moment, as they looked across and downward towards the mouth of
the harbour, there were the flashes of bright light to illumine the
gloom of the evening, and the reports of a ragged volley of musketry
coming from one of the two boats which they could now make out being
rowed hard after the brig, as it glided rapidly along in the direction
where the watchers now stood.

Then for a short space it passed out of sight behind a group of four
vessels which were safely moored. Then it was out again, and as the
lookers-on excitedly watched, they made out dimly that the vessel
answered her helm readily and was gliding round in a tack for the other
side of the harbour, while the two boats in pursuit altered their
direction, the men rowing with all their might, as if to cut the brig
off during her next tack.

There was another ragged volley, this time from the second boat; but if
they were firing to bring down the steersman, it was in vain, for the
brig sailed swiftly on, gaining a little way, as she made for the mouth
of the harbour.

This was far distant yet, and her chances of reaching it even in the
shelter of the harbour, with such a gale blowing, were almost nil.

"She'll do it, though, uncle," shouted Rodd, with his lips close to
Uncle Paul's ear.

"Yes, my boy, I expect she will," was the reply; "but they've