ails to-morrow early,
so there is no time to be lost; or, if you can get off at once--and you
shall have thirty shillings if you do--he may overtake us before we
reach the boats."

"Trust me, mate," answered the lad, a sharp young mud-larker. "I should
just like the feel of a little earnest-money, though, to show that I am
not being sent on a fool's errand."

The seamen laughed, and told the boy that such was very likely to be the
case. Ralph, however, found a crown piece in his pocket.

"Here, my lad," he said, giving it to the boy; "notwithstanding what
they say, I will trust you. What's your name, that I may know you
again?"

"I'm sometimes called Peter Puddle, and sometimes Muddy Legs, and all
sorts of names, for that matter; but I'm no ways particular."

"Well then, Peter Puddle, be smart about it, and gain the rest of your
reward," said Ralph.

The lad, with a shout of delight, taking the money, ran off, and Ralph
was left in doubt whether or not he would fulfil his commission.

The sailors laughed even more than before. "It's easy to see who's the
fool now," observed one of them.

The attention of the party was, however, quickly recalled to what was
going forward in the harbour. The boat before seen could be discerned
dimly in the distance through the gloom, and from the same direction
there came the sound of oars splashing, or people struggling in the
water, and loud cries and shouts mingled with fierce oaths, while now a
piercing cry rang through the night air. Some of the press-gang were
eager to jump in and swim to their shipmates' assistance, but the
officer forbade them, ordering three or four to make another search for
a boat. At length the sounds of struggling ceased, but which party had
been defeated it was impossible to ascertain.

The sound of oars in the water was now heard, and a boat was observed
slowly approaching the shore. She reached at length the jetty near
which the man-of-war's men were standing. Some of them went down to
meet her, and a shout proclaimed that their shipmates had returned,
though without a prisoner. The two men were lifted out of the boat, not
having strength to walk. Their arms and shoulders were fearfully
battered and bruised, and the head of one of them was cut open. They
had reached the boat, when they were attacked by the men in her with
oars and stretchers, and they would have been drowned had they not got
hold of the gunwale, and, in spite of oppo