the new comers were part of the
crew of a consort of the pirate schooner, and he thought it probable
that the pirates might carry him and his companions off as hostages. He
therefore hastened to Devereux, who was at a little distance, and told
him what he had heard. Devereux fully agreed with him, and before the
pirates had time to recover from the excitement into which the news had
thrown them, he and his companions, separating so as not to excite
observation, walked quietly away till they were out of sight of the
pirates. They then, once more meeting, set off running as hard as they
could go towards the extreme end of the island. Before long, as they
halted to take breath, they had the satisfaction of seeing sail made on
the schooner, and presently she glided down with a fair wind towards the
entrance of the lagoon. Before, however, she reached it, Paul, as he
turned his eyes towards the west, caught sight of another sail
approaching from that direction. He pointed it out to his companions.

"She is a square-rigged ship," cried Devereux; "a man-of-war, too, if I
mistake not, come in search of the pirates. Unless their craft is a
very fast one, their career will soon be brought to an end."

CHAPTER SEVEN.

The look-out from the mast-head of the pirate schooner must have
discovered the stranger soon after Paul had seen her, and her appearance
must have caused some uncertainty and irresolution on board. The wind
dropping, they furled sails, as if about to remain where they were and
fight it out.

"It will give the boats of the man-of-war some work to do," exclaimed
Devereux, when he saw this. "I wish that we could get off to them
first, though. I would give much to have a brush with those piratical
scoundrels."

Before long, however, the pirates again altered their minds. The breeze
returning, sail was once more made, and the schooner, with the boats
towing ahead, stood through the entrance. The time lost was probably of
the greatest consequence to them, and by the time that the schooner was
clear of the reefs, the man-of-war had drawn so near, that her character
was no longer doubtful. Devereux had been anxiously watching her for
some time, so had Reuben Cole.

"What do you think of her, Cole?" asked Devereux.

"What you knows her to be, sir--the _Cerberus_ herself, and no other,"
cried Reuben, in a more animated tone than he had indulged in for many a
long day.

"I made sure it was she, sir,