thud that the little vessel shuddered from
stem to stern, and pretty well the whole crew were thrown upon the deck.

The causes of the enemy forsaking the cutter were plain enough now.
They did not want her, and if they did it would have been without the
crew, who would have been a cause of risk and trouble to them. If they
could put her _hors de combat_ it would do just as well, and to this end
all the sail had been hoisted and sheeted home, the wheel lashed, and
with the unfortunate cutter running dead for the beach the party who had
seized her had quietly gone over the side while Hilary and his men were
plotting their destruction, and knowing full well they had nothing to
fear till next tide floated her off--if ever she floated again--they
proceeded to carry out their plans.

The men struggled to their feet once more as the great sail flapped,
while a wave that seemed bent on chasing them struck below the cutter's
taffrail, and the spray leaped on board.

Fortunately for them it was calm and the tide fast falling, or the
gallant little _Kestrel_ would have flown her last flight. As it was,
it was open to doubt whether she would ever spread her long wings again
to skim the sea, for the rising tide might bring with it a gale, and
before she could be got off her timbers might be torn into matchwood.

It was a rapid change from danger to danger. But a few minutes back
they risked sinking the vessel by the explosion of gunpowder, believing
her to be in the hands of the enemy who had cleverly compassed her
defeat, and now they were cast ashore.

Hilary Leigh was seaman enough, however, to know what to do without
consulting the boatswain, and giving his orders rapidly he stopped the
heeling over and beating of the _Kestrel_ upon the sand by relieving her
of her sail, in the midst of which he was startled by the voice of Mr
Lipscombe.

"Good heavens, Mr Leigh!" he exclaimed, angrily, "what does this mean?
I go and lie down for a few minutes, leaving you in charge of the
cutter, and I come up and find her ashore. Brown, Waters! where are
you, men? Have you been mad, asleep, or drunk? Oh, my head! Good
gracious, why, what's this--blood?"

He staggered, and seemed about to fall, but Hilary caught his arm.

"I am glad to see you better, sir," he cried; "but had you not better
lie down?"

"Better?" he said--"better?"

"Yes, sir; don't you remember?"

"Remember? Remember?" he said, staring.

"Yes, sir, the