to cry like a whaup in the hope of summoning the Die-Hards.
One, indeed, he found--Napoleon, who had suffered a grievous pounding
in the fountain, and had only escaped by an eel-like agility which had
aforetime served him in good stead with the law of his native city.
Lucky for Dickson was the meeting, for he had forgotten the road and
would certainly have broken his neck. Led by the Die-Hard he slid forty
feet over screes and boiler-plates, with the gale plucking at him,
found a path, lost it, and then tumbled down a raw bank of earth to the
flat ground beside the harbour. During all this performance, he has
told me, he had no thought of fear, nor any clear notion what he meant
to do. He just wanted to be in at the finish of the job.

Through the narrow entrance the gale blew as through a funnel, and the
usually placid waters of the harbour were a froth of angry waves. Two
boats had been launched and were plunging furiously, and on one of them
a lantern dipped and fell. By its light he could see men holding a
further boat by the shore. There was no sign of the police; he
reflected that probably they had become entangled in the Garple Dean.
The third boat was waiting for some one.

Dickson--a new Ajax by the ships--divined who this someone must be and
realized his duty. It was the leader, the arch-enemy, the man whose
escape must at all costs be stopped. Perhaps he had the Princess with
him, thus snatching victory from apparent defeat. In any case he must
be tackled, and a fierce anxiety gripped his heart. "Aye finish a
job," he told himself, and peered up into the darkness of the cliffs,
wondering just how he should set about it, for except in the last few
days he had never engaged in combat with a fellow-creature.

"When he comes, you grip his legs," he told Napoleon, "and get him
down. He'll have a pistol, and we're done if he's on his feet."

There was a cry from the boats, a shout of guidance, and the light on
the water was waved madly. "They must have good eyesight," thought
Dickson, for he could see nothing. And then suddenly he was aware of
steps in front of him, and a shape like a man rising out of the void at
his left hand.

In the darkness Napoleon missed his tackle, and the full shock came on
Dickson. He aimed at what he thought was the enemy's throat, found
only an arm, and was shaken off as a mastiff might shake off a toy
terrier. He made another clutch, fell, and in falling caught his
oppo