oo, understood the situation, and obeyed Arthur's brief words, 'Kneel
down and pray for us, my boy.'

The Abyssinian was evidently doing the same, after having loaded the
blunderbuss; but it was no longer necessary to use this as a signal,
since the frigate had lowered her boat, which was rapidly coming towards
them.

But, alas! still more swiftly, as it seemed to those terrified eyes, came
the Moorish boat--longer, narrower, more favoured by currents and winds,
flying like a falcon towards its prey. It was a fearful race. Arthur's
head began to swim, his breath to labour, his arms to move stiffly as a
thresher's flail; but, just as power was failing him, an English cheer
came over the waters, and restored strength for a few more resolute
strokes.

Then came some puffs of smoke from the pirate's boat, a report, a jerk to
their own, a fresh dash forward, even as Fareek fired, giving a moment's
check to the enemy. There was a louder cheer, several shots from the
English boat, a cloud from the ship's side. Then Arthur was sensible of
a relaxation of effort, and that the chase was over, then that the
British boat was alongside, friendly voices ringing in his ears, 'How
now, mates? Runaways, eh? Where d'ye hail from?'

'Scottish! British!' panted out Arthur, unable to utter more, faint,
giddy, and astounded by the cheers around him, and the hands stretched
out in welcome. He scarcely saw or understood.

'Queer customers here! What! a child! Who are you, my little man? And
what's this? A Moor! He's hit--pretty hard too.'

This brought back Arthur's reeling senses in one flash of horror, at the
sight of Tam, bleeding fast in the bottom of the boat.

'O Tam! Tam! He saved me! He is Scottish too,' cried Arthur. 'Sir, is
he alive?'

'I think so,' said the officer, who had bent over Tam. 'We'll have him
aboard in a minute, and see what the doctor can do with him. You seem to
have had a narrow escape.'

Arthur was too busy endeavouring to staunch the blood which flowed fast
from poor Tam's side to make much reply, but Ulysse, perched on the
officer's knee, was answering for him in mixed English and French. 'Moi,
je suis le Chevalier de Bourke! My papa is ambassador to Sweden. This
gentleman is his secretary. We were shipwrecked--and M. Arture and I
swam away together. The Moors were good to us, and wanted to make us
Moors; but M. Arture said it would be wicked. And Yusuf bought him for a
slave; b