n who lay stretched out under one of the benches. The
chain was still round his leg. Deane raised up the man's head. Though
wounded, he was still perfectly conscious, and had become aware of the
dreadful fate awaiting him had he been overlooked. Deane shouted to
those on deck to come to his assistance. By the sound which the water
made rushing into the hold of the vessel, he was very sure she would not
float many minutes longer. To leave the poor man was contrary to his
nature, and yet to release him without knocking off the shackle was
impossible. The glance he had of the countenance of the wounded man
convinced him that he was not one of the low class of criminals which
formed a portion of the gang of galley-slaves, but that he was probably
a Huguenot. Deane heard those on deck shouting to the boats to make
haste as the galley was about to sink. At that moment one of his own
men, finding that he was not on deck, sprung down below to look for him.
Deane at once ordered him to bring the French master-at-arms with his
keys or chisel to emancipate the unfortunate prisoner. The Frenchman
pretended not to understand him, but a pistol placed at his head quickly
made him come below and take off the shackle which held the slave to the
bench. Jack in a moment, bearing the rescued man in his arms, leaped up
on deck just as the boats came alongside. The French crew made a spring
into them, for already they felt the galley sinking beneath their feet.
Jack had only just time to lower the man down and spring in after him
before the galley, rolling heavily, settled down under the water. The
boats rapidly pulled away from her, and in another minute she and the
mangled remains of humanity with which her decks were covered were hid
beneath the waves.

The rescued galley-slave warmly expressed his thanks to Deane for having
preserved his life. He had been struck on the head by a piece of one of
the oars shattered by a shot, and stunned. Little blood having flowed
from the wound, his strength was unimpaired.

"You have saved my life by your activity, young sir," he said, in broken
English, "and I am grateful to you; but, alas! when too probably all I
once loved on earth, my property, and my friends, will never again be
restored to me, I have, I own, but little to live for!"

"Cheer up, sir," answered Jack; "your Huguenot countrymen are always
welcome in England, and I doubt not that you will find many friends
among them;