"Pull yourself together, man," shouted Dommett, shaking the man in his anxiety. "What’s amiss? What’s amiss?" "Push off for your life!" he panted. "It’s all up; we are all undone!" This was all he could say. Nevertheless we shoved off, and waited at about a boat’s length from the mouth of the creek--waited for any stragglers who might appear. Nevertheless no more of our men appeared, though a musket was fired at us from the brushwood, followed by an irregular volley. At the whiz of the bullets, though they passed well above us, I threw myself on the bottom of the boat; but the firing had the opposite effect on the bos’n’s mate, for, cursing horribly, he raised himself and seized an oar. Dommett had already done likewise, and before the volley could be repeated we were well out of range, though throughout the whole time we were under fire the man still kept his pipe firmly between his teeth. Then they called upon me to take an oar, and feeling miserably ashamed of myself I got up, and, as well as my hand would allow, I rowed with them. By a special providence we made the gap between the reef in safety, then rowed slowly, for the longboat was an unwieldy craft, towards the _Gannet_. The master, perceiving that something was amiss, sent a boat to meet us, and on going on board we were surrounded by the anxious remainder of the crew. The bos’n’s mate told his tale, how that the expedition came across a flat piece of ground surrounded by steep rocks, like a basin. Here, the Portuguese said, was the spot where the treasure was buried. The men laid aside their arms, took their spades, and began to dig. Three feet down in the hard soil they went, but there was no sign of the treasure. Suddenly they heard a mocking laugh, and, looking up, saw that Pedro had slipped away and was jeering at them from the top of the rocks, and, what was more, he spoke like an Englishman, without any of his former accent. Captain Poynings, maddened by the man’s treachery, fired a pistol at him, but without effect. The seamen looked around for their arms to give pursuit, but these had been stealthily removed, and instead they found themselves surrounded by at least a hundred armed scoundrels, who demanded that they should yield themselves. The bos’n’s mate, however, having separated himself from the rest, took to his heels and fled for the boat, hotly pursued by half a dozen of the villains. He gained the longboat in safety, as I have said, and the fate of Captain Poynings and his men was still a mystery. Shouts and threats came from the crew of the _Gannet_ when they heard that their beloved captain and their comrades had been treacherously trapped. Some proposed that all hands should form an avenging landing party, but of this our lieutenant would not hear, as the nature of the island would be against open attack.