l self-control, and fled in
abject terror. Fortunately, the first part of the descent from the spot
was unobstructed; for, in the then condition of their feelings, both men
would probably have flung themselves over any precipice that had lain in
their way. A few moments, however, sufficed to restore enough of
self-possession to the pirate to enable him to direct his course with
some intelligence. He naturally followed the path by which he had
ascended, and soon gained the beach, closely followed by Zeppa.

In speed the two men were at the time well matched, for any advantage
that Zeppa had in point of size and strength was counterbalanced by the
youth and superstitious terror of Rosco. At first, indeed, the madman
gained on his foe, but as the impetuosity of his first dash abated, the
pirate's courage returned, and, warming to the race, he held his ground.

Like hare and greyhound they coursed along the level patch of ground
that lay on that side of the island, until they came in sight of the
swampy land, covered with low but dense wood which bounded the lands of
the Raturans. Dismay overwhelmed the pirate at first sight of it. Then
hope rebounded into his soul, and he put on a spurt which carried him
considerably ahead of his pursuer. He reached the edge of the
swamp-land, and dashed into its dark recesses. He had barely entered it
a few yards when he plunged into water up to the neck. The heavy root
of a tree chanced to hang over him. Drawing himself close beneath it,
he remained quite still. It was his best--indeed his only--chance.

Next moment Zeppa plunged headlong into another part of the same
half-hidden pool. Arising, like some shaggy monster of the swamp, with
weeds and slimy plants trailing from his locks, he paused a moment, as
if to make sure of his direction before resuming the chase. At that
moment he was completely in the power of the pirate, for his broad back
was not more than a few feet from the screen of roots and tendrils by
which Rosco was partially hidden. The temptation was strong. The
pirate drew the keen knife that always hung at his girdle, but a feeling
of pity induced him to hesitate. The delay sufficed to save Zeppa's
life. Next moment he seized an overhanging branch, drew himself out of
the swamp, and sped on his way; but, having lost sight of his enemy, he
soon paused and looked round with indecision.

"It must have been a dream," he muttered, and began to retrace his s