ell, you
must keep your course due east after passing it. If you steer to the
nor-ard o' that, you'll run on the Scotch coast; if you bear away to
the south'ard of it, you'll run a chance, in this state o' the tide,
of getting wrecked among the Farne Islands; so keep her head _due
east_."

Ruby said this very impressively; so much so, that the Frenchman
looked at him in surprise.

"Why you so particulare?" he enquired, with a look of suspicion.

"Because I am going to leave you," said Ruby, pointing to the Bell
Rock, which at that moment was not much more than a hundred yards to
leeward. Indeed, it was scarcely so much, for the outlying rock at
the northern end named _Johnny Gray_, lay close under their lee as
the vessel passed. Just then a great wave burst upon it, and, roaring
in wild foam over the ledges, poured into the channels and pools on
the other side. For one instant Ruby's courage wavered, as he gazed
at the flood of boiling foam.

"What you say?" exclaimed the Frenchman, laying his hand on the
collar of Ruby's jacket.

The young sailor started, struck the Frenchman a backhanded blow on
the chest, which hurled him violently against the man at the wheel,
and, bending down, sprang with a wild shout into the sea.

So close had he steered to the rock, in order to lessen the danger of
his reckless venture, that the privateer just weathered it. There was
not, of course, the smallest chance of recapturing Ruby. No ordinary
boat could have lived in the sea that was running at the time, even
in open water, much less among the breakers of the Bell Rock. Indeed,
the crew felt certain that the English sailor had allowed despair to
overcome his judgment, and that he must infallibly be dashed to
pieces on the rocks, so they did not check their onward course, being
too glad to escape from the immediate neighbourhood of such a
dangerous spot.

Meanwhile Ruby buffeted the billows manfully. He was fully alive to
the extreme danger of the attempt, but he knew exactly what he meant
to do. He trusted to his intimate knowledge of every ledge and
channel and current, and had calculated his motions to a nicety.

He knew that at the particular state of the tide at the time, and
with the wind blowing as it then did, there was a slight eddy at the
point of _Cunningham's Ledge_. His life, he felt, depended on his
gaining that eddy. If he should miss it, he would be dashed against
_Johnny Gray's_ rock, or be carried beyond it