get through. So much the better for me,
since it was something to contend against and
do. I cut off the bend in the river, at a great
saving of space, came to the water's edge
again, and hid myself, and waited. I could
now hear the dip of the oars very distinctly;
the voices had ceased.

The sound came on in a regular tune, and
as I lay hidden, I fancied the tune so played
to be, "Chris'en—George—King!—Chris'en—
George—King! Chris'en—George—King!"
over and over again, always the same, with the
pauses always at the same places. I had
likewise time to make up my mind that if these
were the Pirates, I could and would (barring
my being shot), swim off to my raft, in spite
of my wound, the moment I had given
the alarm, and hold my old post by Miss
Maryon.

"Chris'en—George—King! Chris'en—
George—King! Chris'en—George—King!"
coming up, now, very near.

I took a look at the branches about me,
to see where a shower of bullets would be
most likely to do me least hurt; and I
took a look back at the track I had made
in forcing my way in; and now I was
wholly prepared and fully ready for them.

"Chris'en—George—King! Chrise'n—
George—King! Chris'en—George—King!"
Here they were!

Who were they? The barbarous Pirates,
scum of all nations, headed by such men as the
hideous little Portuguese monkey, and the one-
eyed English convict with the gash across his
face, that ought to have gashed his wicked
head off? The worst men in the world
picked out from the worst, to do the cruellest
and most atrocious deeds that ever
stained it? The howling, murdering, black-
flag waving, mad, and drunken crowd of
devils that had overcome us by numbers
and by treachery? No. These were English
men in English boats—good blue-jackets and
red-coats—marines that I knew myself, and
sailors that knew our seamen! At the helm
of the first boat, Captain Carton, eager and
steady. At the helm of the second boat,
Captain Maryon, brave and bold. At the
helm of the third boat, an old seaman, with
determination carved into his watchful face,
like the figure-head of a ship. Every man
doubly and trebly armed from head to foot.
Every man lying-to at his work, with a will
that had all his heart and soul in it. Every
man looking out for any trace of friend or
enemy, and burning to be the first to do good,
or avenge evil. Every man with his face on
fire when he saw me, his countryman who
had been taken prisoner, and hailed me with
a cheer, as Captain Carton's boat ran in and
took me on board.

I reported, "All escaped, sir! All well,
all safe, all here!"

God bless me—and God bless them—what
a cheer! It turned me weak, as I was
passed on from hand to hand to the stern of
the boat: every hand patting me or grasping
me in some way or other, in the moment of
my going by.

"Hold up, my brave fellow," says Captain
Carton, clapping me on the shoulder like a
friend, and giving me a flask. "Put your
lips to that, and they'll be red again. Now,
boys, give way!"

The banks flew by us, as if the mightiest
stream that ever ran was with us; and so
it was, I am sure, meaning the stream of
those men's ardour and spirit. The banks
flew by us, and we came in sight of the rafts
—the banks flew by us, and we came alongside
of the rafts—the banks stopped; and
there was a tumult of laughing and crying
and kissing and shaking of hands, and catching
up of children and setting of them down again,
and a wild hurry of thankfulness and joy that
melted every one and softened all hearts.

I had taken notice, in Captain Carton's
boat, that there was a curious and quite new
sort of fitting on board. It was a kind of a
little bower made of flowers, and it was set
up behind the captain, and betwixt him and
the rudder. Not only was this arbor, so to
call it, neatly made of flowers, but it was
ornamented in a singular way. Some of the
men had taken the ribbons and buckles off
their hats, and hung them among the flowers;
others, had made festoons and streamers of
their handkerchiefs, and hung them there;
others, had intermixed such trifles as bits of
glass and shining fragments of lockets and
tobacco-boxes, with the flowers; so that
altogether it was a very bright and lively object in
the sunshine. But, why there, or what for,
I did not understand.

Now, as soon as the first bewilderment was
over, Captain Carton gave the order to land
for the present. But, this boat of his, with
two hands left in her, immediately put off
again when the men were out of her, and
kept off, some yards from the shore. As she
floated there, with the two hands gently
backing water to keep her from going down
the stream, this pretty little arbor attracted
many eyes. None of the boat's crew, however,
had anything to say about it, except that it
was the captain's fancy.

The captain, with the women and children
clustering round him, and the men of all
ranks grouped outside them, and all listening,
stood telling how the Expedition, deceived by
its bad intelligence, had chased the light
Pirate boats all that fatal night, and had
still followed in their wake next day, and
had never suspected until many hours too
late that the great Pirate body had drawn off
in the darkness when the chace began, and
shot over to the Island. He stood telling
how the Expedition, supposing the whole
array of armed boats to be ahead of it, got
tempted into shallows and went aground;
but, not without having its revenge upon the
two decoy-boats, both of which it had come
up with, overland, and sent to the bottom