asses of spray
and foam over the rocks. The old pilot stood calm by the Captain's
side. The Frenchmen, who had concentrated all their attention on the
_Ruby_ and let the other two ships escape, now bore up after them.

On she stood under all sail towards the rocks. The old pilot took his
stand in the weather-rigging. The helmsman's eye was upon him, ready to
answer each wave of his hand, or deep-toned sound of his voice. The
guns were deserted, and all the crew stood by either the tacks or sheets
or braces, or crowded the tops aloft, ready with all possible rapidity
to make any alteration in the sails which a shift of wind or change of
course might require.

Still the enemy kept firing at the frigate, but their shot fell either
altogether short or wide of their mark. The wind increased--the frigate
flew on. On either side of her there appeared white foaming seas,
dancing up fantastically and wildly, without apparent cause, but which
the seamen well knew betokened rocks and shoals. They were aware that
they were among the most dangerous reefs on that rock-bound coast.

No one in the ship had ever been there except the curious old pilot.
There he stood, as cool and collected as if the ship were sailing in the
open sea, with a gentle breeze filling her canvas. The Captain stood
near the pilot, and they all knew that they could trust him, and so were
content if he trusted the old Guernsey man.

"He knows what he's about," observed Paul Pringle to his godson, looking
at the pilot. "Mind, Billy, that's what you must always do. Never
attempt to do what you don't know how to do; but then what I say is, set
to work and learn to do all sorts of things. Never throw a chance away.
Note all the landmarks as we go along now, and whenever you go into a
harbour mark them in the same way."

"Ay, ay, Paul," answered Billy; "I'll do my best."

"That's all any man can do," remarked his godfather. "Stick to that,
boy, and you'll do well. But, I say, I wish those Monsieurs would just
try and follow us. We might lead them a dance which would leave them on
some of these pretty rocks alongside."

True Blue's interest in what was going forward was so great that he
could scarcely reply to Paul's remarks. The sea foamed and roared on
either side of the ship. Now the water became smoother over a wider
surface, now black rocks rose sheer out of the sea as high as the
hammock nettings, and then once more there was a bubbling,