ght, father," cried Poole. "The boat's back."

"We thought she would never have come," added Fitz. "They have had a
very hard pull up stream, for the water has risen, and they thought that
they'd never get to the landing-place."

"But they are there!" cried the skipper eagerly. "What about the
others? Have they got on board?"

"Everything was going right, father. I had a few words with Butters,
and he was very eager to know how soon I could get you all down."

"And you couldn't tell him?"

"No, father.--I think that's all."

"Bravo! Magnificent!" cried Don Ramon. "You have both done wonders,"
and to the lads' disgust he caught them in turn to his breast and kissed
them. "It is grand, and your fathers should be proud. My lads, it is
the grandest thing in life to be a Spaniard of pure Castilian descent,
but next to that the greatest thing in the world is to be an English
boy."

"This is no time for compliments, Don Ramon," said the skipper sternly.
"They have done their duty; that is all. Now then, will you lead on at
once with half our party, and I with the rest will form the rear-guard.
If even now the enemy come up we shall be able to hold them in check.
We shall fire, and then double past you and your party, who will halt
and fire, and then retire past us again. We are very few and they are
many, but I think we can reach the boat in safety after all."

The Don made no reply, but put himself at the head of his little party
at once, leaving the skipper, the two lads, and the remainder facing the
enemy's camp and watching the flickering fires between, the hardest task
of all when the way was open and they felt that with a good rush they
might reach the boat in safety.

But discipline was master, and fighting down all desire to break away,
the remnant of the little force stood waiting, while the carpenter made
a last effort to find himself something to do, by suggesting that it
would be best perhaps to give them there fires just another touch.

"No," said the skipper sternly. "In another two minutes we shall follow
on."

"Thank goodness!" whispered Fitz excitedly. "I don't feel as if I could
stand any more."

"Not even one of Don Ramon's speeches and a hug?"

"Oh, don't talk about it," whispered Fitz angrily.

"What! Isn't it grand to be an English boy?"

"Bosh!" cried Fitz, and like an echo of his ejaculation came the
skipper's command--

"Forward!" And directly afterwards, "Poole--Mr B