threw it into the sea, bidding Rex take that with him also. Rex
dragged the poor beast into the boat, and with this miscellaneous
cargo pushed off to the shore. The poor goat, shivering, began to bleat
piteously, and the men laughed. To a stranger it would have appeared
that the boat contained a happy party of fishermen, or coast settlers,
returning with the proceeds of a day's marketing.

Laying off as the water shallowed, Rex called to Bates to come for the
cargo, and three men with muskets standing up as before, ready to resist
any attempt at capture, the provisions, goat and all, were carried
ashore. "There!" says Rex, "you can't say we've used you badly, for
we've divided the provisions." The sight of this almost unexpected
succour revived the courage of the five, and they felt grateful. After
the horrible anxiety they had endured all that night, they were prepared
to look with kindly eyes upon the men who had come to their assistance.

"Men," said Bates, with something like a sob in his voice, "I didn't
expect this. You are good fellows, for there ain't much tucker aboard, I
know."

"Yes," affirmed Frere, "you're good fellows."

Rex burst into a savage laugh. "Shut your mouth, you tyrant," said he,
forgetting his dandyism in the recollection of his former suffering. "It
ain't for your benefit. You may thank the lady and the child for it."

Julia Vickers hastened to propitiate the arbiter of her daughter's
fate. "We are obliged to you," she said, with a touch of quiet dignity
resembling her husband's; "and if I ever get back safely, I will take
care that your kindness shall be known."

The swindler and forger took off his leather cap with quite an air. It
was five years since a lady had spoken to him, and the old time when he
was Mr. Lionel Crofton, a "gentleman sportsman", came back again for
an instant. At that moment, with liberty in his hand, and fortune all
before him, he felt his self-respect return, and he looked the lady in
the face without flinching.

"I sincerely trust, madam," said he, "that you will get back safely. May
I hope for your good wishes for myself and my companions?"

Listening, Bates burst into a roar of astonished enthusiasm. "What a
dog it is!" he cried. "John Rex, John Rex, you were never made to be a
convict, man!"

Rex smiled. "Good-bye, Mr. Bates, and God preserve you!"

"Good-bye," says Bates, rubbing his hat off his face, "and I--I--damme,
I hope you'll get safe off--ther