And he knew, though he could not see them then, that far out to sea lay the vessels of the blockading squadron. Once in sight of them and the anxious fugitives were safe. And so Clif put every ounce of muscle he had into that task. Not a word more was spoken; but the man's lips were set in a desperate resolve and his broad back heaved as he fought his way on. There was a heavy sea, and progress was frightfully slow. Now that they were so near to safety, to be recaptured would be frightful indeed. But yet the cadet knew that Spanish soldiers on the shore might catch sight of them at any moment, and come rushing down the beach to open fire. Clif had rescued one man from just such a plight as that; and so as he rowed he glanced nervously along the shore. But he saw no one, and no one saw him. The light brightened until he could make out everything along the coast, but there was no sign of any one's having noticed them. An so with his heart growing lighter at every moment Clif tugged at the oars and forced the frail boat ahead through the waves. It was but natural that his relief should be great, for his adventures upon that island had been terrible ones indeed. A warship is far from a safe place of residence, especially in war time. But Clif felt that if he once got under the American flag again all his worry would be at an end. And so every stroke nearer was a cause for joy. For perhaps five minutes he rowed on in silence. By that time he was some distance from shore, though their progress was slow in the heavy sea. But they felt that they were safe. They felt that there was no longer anything to be feared. And there was a silent prayer of thanksgiving in Clif Faraday's heart. And such being his feelings, the reader may imagine the horror and consternation that swept over him a moment later. For an appalling discovery was made, one that seemed fairly to freeze Clif's blood. He was struggling with his back toward Bessie Stuart. And the joy that was in his heart was turned to horror by hearing the girl give a shrill scream. The cadet whirled about. He saw the girl, her face transfixed and white as a sheet, pointing with a trembling finger off to starboard. Clif followed the direction of her gaze; what he saw made his brain reel, made him almost totter backward into the boat. Not half a mile away, coming straight down the coast and bearing down upon them at full speed, was a vessel, a low gunboat. And high above her bow was floating a Spanish flag. Clif stared at the frightful apparition as if he had seen a ghost. What it meant to him may be imagined--the failure of all their hopes--their capture and death! And there was not the slightest possibility of escape! Perfectly wild with terror the agonized cadet whirled about, gazing seaward, with a faint hope of the possibility of there being seen by some American vessel. But the gray horizon was not light enough for them to be sighted. And all hope was gone.