tern and cut the painter where it touched the water-line;
the dense fog hid everything from view. Holding the line in his left
hand he swam silently along, drawing the boat after him, till he reached
the fore-chains. Then four figures clambered noiselessly over the
bulwarks and got into the boat, which was at once pushed off.

Wrapped in the white mantle of fog, they drifted slowly away, watching
with bated breath the misty outlines of the towering spars grow feinter
and fainter, and then vanish altogether, till, although they were but
forty yards away, the position of the _Brekenbridge_ was discernible
only by a dull blurr of sickly light that came from her stern ports.
Then suddenly there came the sound of a splash, followed by tramping of
feet and Captain Belton's hoarse voice.

"Hands to the boat, here! Mrs. Clinton and her baby have fallen
overboard."

Lights appeared on the deck, and then a voice called out, "The boat is
gone, sir!"

"Clear away the starboard-quarter boat, then!" roared Belton; "quick!"

But before the quarter-boat could be lowered, the sound of oars was
heard, a boat dashed up, and a man, leaning over the side, grasped the
drowning woman and lifted her in, her dead baby still clasped tightly in
her arms.

"Have you got her?" called out Williams and Belton together.

"No," came the answer, and those in the boat began rowing again, but
instead of approaching the ship, she seemed to be swallowed up in the
fog, and the _click clack_ of the oars momentarily sounded feinter.

"By heavens, the scoundrels are pulling away!" shouted Belton. "After
them, you fellows in the quarter-boat!"

But the dense, impenetrable mantle of fog made pursuit useless, and the
quarter-boat returned an hour later with an exhausted crew.

At ten o'clock next morning a keen, cold air came from the south-east,
and two days later the _Breckenbridge_ brought her load of misery into
Sydney Cove, and her master reported the escape of Edward Adair, Michael
Terry, William O'Day, Patrick O'Day, and Daniel McCoy, and the death
by drowning of Mrs. Clinton, who, with her baby in her arms, had jumped
overboard on the same night.

II.

Till dawn the convicts urged the boat along through the fog, then they
ceased rowing and ate ravenously of the food in the boat's locker.

Lying upon the sail in the bottom, of the boat, Mrs. Clinton slept. The
night was warm, her wet clothing did her no harm, and her sleep was the
slee