gitives as fast as was
possible in so dark a night. Bill suggested that they should turn into
a dark corner, and dodge them. The suggestion was acted on at once.
They dashed round the first corner they came to, and then, instead of
continuing their flight, turned sharp to the left, and hid in a doorway.
The pursuers came pouring round the corner, shouting wildly. When the
thickest of the crowd was opposite their place of concealment, Bill and
Ben rushed into the midst of them with a shout, imitating the tones of
the Frenchmen as nearly as possible, but taking care to avoid the use of
word, and thus they joined in the pursuit! Gradually they fell behind,
as if out-run, and, when they found themselves in rear, turned about,
and made off in the opposite direction, then, diverging to the left,
they headed again towards the shore, ran down to the beach, and leaped
into the first boat they came to.

It happened to be a very small one,--a sort of dinghy. Ben thought it
was too small, and was about to leap out and search for a larger, when
lights suddenly appeared, and the shouts of the pursuers--who had
discovered the _ruse_--were heard as they approached.

"Shove off, Ben!"

"Hurrah, my hearties!" cried the seaman with a stentorian shout as he
seized an oar.

Next moment the little boat was flying over the smooth water of the
port, the silence of which was now broken by exclamations and cries from
the shipping in reply to those from the shore; while the splashing of
oars were heard in all directions as men leaped into boats and rowed
about at random. Darkness favoured the Englishmen, but it also proved
the cause of their being very nearly re-captured; for they were within
two yards of the battery at the mouth of the harbour before they
observed it, and swerved aside just in time to avoid a collision. But
they had been seen, and a random discharge of musketry followed. This
was succeeded by the sudden blaze of a blue light, which revealed the
whole port swarming with boats and armed men,--a sight which acted so
powerfully on the warlike spirits of the sailors that they started up
simultaneously, flung their red caps into the air, and gave vent to a
hearty British cheer, which Ben Bolter followed up as they resumed the
oars, with "Old England for ever! farewell, Mounseers!"

The blue light went out and left everything in darkness thicker than
ever, but not before a rapid though ineffective discharge of musketry
ha