On he came, running wildly before them, his face livid, his mouth open, his teeth set, eyes starting from his head with mortal terror, panting as if his heart must burst, ready to fall with exhaustion, but still hurrying on for his dear life's sake. When he was close to the yacht his strength failed him; he stretched out his arms wildly, and staggered. With a yell of triumph the cruel crowd was on him. A man struck him over the head with a stick. Then, with one last despairing effort, he threw himself from the quay on to the yacht's deck, and fell a helpless mass at Carew's feet, clutching him by the legs, as if to implore his protection, but unable to speak or move. His pursuers stood on the quay above, muttering angrily to each other, but hesitated a moment or so before they ventured to board the yacht, each waiting for someone else to lead the way. Those few moments saved the hunted man. "Below there!" cried Carew, pointing to the cabin. "Quick, man, or you will be lost." Seeing that the poor wretch was too exhausted to rise by himself, he seized him by the arm, thrust him down the cabin hatchway, closed the cover over him, locked it, and put the key in his pocket. It was all done in a few seconds, and then the solicitor turned round and stood calmly facing the mob. The people had not realised at first that Carew was about to rob them of their victim. Now that they did so, a howl of rage burst from them, and some shouted to him, what were evidently commands to give the man up to them, and menaces of what they would do if he refused, though he could not understand the words. One man began to clamber down to the yacht; but Carew seized his leg and threw him on the quay again, not over-gently. "Silence!" the solicitor called out, leaping back on the hatchway; and the Dutchmen, impressed by the Englishman's resolute bearing, paused and listened to what he had to say. "Does anyone here understand English?" he asked. As might be expected from a crowd in a Dutch city, several men cried out, "Yes, Englishman; yes, we know English." "Then, what is all this disturbance about? Are you all mad?" "We want dat man," replied a surly voice. "You can't have him." "Den ve vill take him." "Oh, will you?" Carew drew from his pocket Allen's revolver, which he always carried about with him now. "Look you here, my friends; I don't want a row, but if any man tries to come on board my vessel without my permission I will shoot him." They were awed by the quiet determination of his manner, and felt that he would carry out his words. "Does you know who you has down dere below?" asked the man who had spoken before. "I don't know, and I don't care; but he is not going to be murdered by you cowards on board my vessel. If he has committed some crime, call the police. I will deliver him over to them only."