lay in the stern-sheets of his yawl.  He looked at his men, and saw that they could not hold out much longer to pull as they had been pulling.  Then he looked at Mulford’s boat, and saw it gliding away from him at a rate that would shortly place it another half mile in advance.  He seized a musket, and raised it to his shoulder, nay, was in the act of taking aim at his mate, when Rose, who watched his movements, threw herself before Harry, and if she did not actually save his life, at least prevented Spike’s attempt on it for that occasion.  In the course of the next ten minutes the fugitives had again so far gained on their pursuers, that the latter began to see that their efforts were useless.  Spike muttered a few bitter curses, and told his men to lay on their oars.

“It’s well for the runaway,” he added, “that the gal put herself between us, else would his grog have been stopped for ever.  I’ve long suspected this; but had I been sure of it, the Gulf Stream would have had the keeping of his body, the first dark night we were in it together.  Lay on your oars, men, lay on your oars; I’m afeared the villian will get through our fingers, a’ter all.”

The men obeyed, and then, for the first time, did they turn their heads, to look at those they had been so vehemently pursuing.  The other boat was quite half a mile from them, and it had again tacked.  This last occurrence induced Spike to pull slowly ahead, in quest of another short passage to cut the fugitives off; but no such opening offered.

“There he goes about again, by George!” exclaimed Spike.  “Give way, lads—­give way; an easy stroke, for if he is embayed, he can’t escape us!”

Sure enough, poor Mulford was embayed, and could see no outlet by which to pass ahead.  He tacked his boat two or three times, and he wore round as often; but on every side shoals, or rocks that actually rose above the surface of the water, impeded his course.  The fact was not to be concealed; after all his efforts, and so many promises of success, not only was his further progress ahead cut off, but equally so was retreat.  The passage was not wide enough to admit the hope of getting by his pursuers, and the young man came to the conclusion that his better course was to submit with dignity to his fate.  For himself he had no hope—­he knew Spike’s character too well for that; but he did not apprehend any great immediate danger to his companions.  Spike had a coarse, brutal admiration for Rose! but her expected fortune, which was believed to be of more amount than was actually the case, was a sort of pledge that he would not willingly put himself in a situation that would prevent the possibility of enjoying it.  Strange, hurried, and somewhat confused thoughts passed through Harry Mulford’s mind, as he brailed his sail, and waited for his captors to approach and take possession of his boat and himself.  This was done quietly, and with very few words on the part of Spike.