n. "And now, sir, if you will allow me to make a suggestion, I
would keep off the island till daylight; for, not long ago, as we were
pulling here, both Duff and I fancied we heard some firing off the mouth
of the harbour, but we could not tell for certain, we've had such a din
of popping in our ears all night; however, I cannot help thinking some
of the party have made another attempt to escape."

"I am afraid that there is very little chance of that," said Saltwell.
"If that villain, Zappa, does not murder them, it is more than I expect.
However, we'll stand on towards the island till daybreak, as you
suggest; and now, Mr Tompion, I should think you require both rest and
food, so go down below and take them. Tell Mason to give you and Mr
Duff whatever he has got in the gun-room--you'll get it quicker there
than in your own berth."

Midshipmen are proverbially hungry, and I need not say that our two
young friends did ample justice to a cold round of beef, which the
gun-room steward placed before them.

Saltwell had scarcely turned in when he was again roused up by Togle,
the midshipman of the watch, who came to tell him that a suspicious sail
was seen to the eastward. He immediately came on deck; and just in the
centre of the red glow on the sky, which precedes the rising of the
bright luminary of day, there appeared the tapering sails of a
lateen-rigged craft, looking like the dark fin of a huge shark, just
floating on the lead-coloured waters.

"She's standing this way too, by Jove!" he exclaimed. "And give me a
glass. I thought so; she's in chase of a small boat under sail, just
a-head of her Mr Togle, go aloft with a glass, and see what you can
make out. I can distinguish little more than the upper leech of the
sail; and were it not so calm, even that could not be seen."

Togle hailed from aloft, to say that there was certainly a boat a-head
of the stranger.

"I think that I can even make out that she has people in her, as she is
much nearer us than the mistico, which keeps firing at her every now and
then."

"You are right," said the lieutenant, as the midshipman came on deck.
"She is little more than half way between us. All hands make sail! We
must do our best to overhaul her first; for, though I have slight hopes
on the subject, she may have some of our friends in her, trying to
escape."

Every stitch of canvas the brig could carry on a wind was now set; but
the mistico stood boldly on, and it