from
the nearest base to take a look along the coast. Perhaps they've
spotted the yawl. But they can't get over that bar, yet."

"The tide's rising fast, though," she remarked, pointing to the shore
immediately before us. "It'll be up to this boat soon."

I saw that she was right, and that presently the boat would be
floating. We made it fast, and retreated further up the beach, amongst
the overhanging trees, and there, from beneath the shelter of a group
of dwarf oaks, looked seaward again. The destroyer lay supine outside
the bar, watching. Suddenly, right behind her, far across the grey
sea, the sun shot up above the horizon--her long dark hull cut across
his ruddy face. And we were then able to make out shapes that moved
here and there on her deck. There were live men there!--but on the
yawl we saw no sign of life.

Yet, even as we looked, life sprang up there again. Once more a shot
rang out, followed by two others in sharp succession. And as we stared
in that direction, wondering what this new affray could be, we saw a
boat shoot out from beneath the bows, with a low, crouching figure in
it which was evidently making frantic efforts to get away. Somebody on
board the yawl was just as eager to prevent this escape; three or
four shots sounded--following one of them, the figure in the boat fell
forward with a sickening suddenness.

"Got him!" I said involuntarily. "Poor devil!--whoever he is."

"No!" exclaimed Miss Raven. "See!--he's up again."

The figure was struggling to an erect position--even at that distance
we could make out the effort. But the light of the newly-risen sun was
so dazzling and confusing that we could not tell if the figure was
that of an Englishman or a Chinaman--it was, at any rate, the figure
of a tall man. And whoever he was, he managed to rise to his feet, and
to lift an arm in the direction of the yawl, from which he was then
some twenty yards away. Two more shots rang out--one from the yawl,
another from the boat. It seemed to me that the man in the boat
swayed--but a moment later he was again busy at his oars. No further
shot came from the yawl, and the boat drew further and further away
from it, in the direction of a spit of land some three or four hundred
yards from where we stood. There were high rocks at the sea end of
that spit--the boat disappeared behind them.

"There's one villain loose, at any rate," I muttered, not too well
pleased to think that he was within reach of