"Ha!" muttered Joshua. "That may be a signal to the rest of the pack, but I warrant it will bring our men on fast! I shall die in my bed yet. Courage, Joshua!" He felt level sands under his feet, and quickened his steps to come up with Sir Nicholas, lost in the darkness. Behind, on the high ground, footsteps were running and voices could be heard calling to one another. From the huts to the west came also a stir. Lights showed bobbing on the path above. The hunt was up. Dominica was set on her feet by the water's edge. Sir Nicholas wrenched his fretful sword from the scabbard, watching those moving lights as they came nearer, wobbling down the slope, outlining the forms of armed men. The soldiers were casting about now from the looks of it. In the glimmer of the few lanterns Beauvallet could see them peering and searching with halberds levelled. There was but a handful of them, but enough to settle the account of two Englishmen; and from the huts, along the path upon the hill, more were coming to their assistance. Joshua had waded out into the water, striving to catch the sound of oars. He came back and touched Beauvallet's arm. "To the right, master, I think." Sir Nicholas took Dominica's hand and followed. The faint sound of oars grew more distinct; others beside themselves had heard it. From further up the beach came a shout of command, and a surge of some four or five men towards the water. "Row, ye devils, row!" groaned Joshua, fairly dancing with impatience. The soldiers were slipping and stumbling over the shingle; from the dark water came a lusty shout; they could hear Dangerfield's clear voice raised: "Pull, sluggards, pull!" Then the richer voice of the boatswain came to them, chanting in imitation of a waterman: "Heave and ho! rumbelow!" It was a race now grimmer than any that had been, a race between that boat cleaving desperately through the water and the soldiers pelting down to cut off the fugitives. Joshua stayed peering out to sea to spy the boat, but Sir Nicholas had his back turned and waited, drawn sword in hand, to check the rush from the land. The splash of oars was close now; another moment and Joshua saw the boat come nosing shoreward. Behind him the foremost of the soldiers had run on his doom, and Sir Nicholas' sword was red. But now lusty seamen were wading ashore, jostling each other to be the first to reach land, and the air was rent by solid English oaths. The handful of soldiers on the beach drew back. They had courage enough, but lacked a leader, and it was plain that a sprinkling of soldiers could not hope to stand against this troop of bloodthirsty seamen. They fell back then and sent up a mighty yell to warn their comrades that there was need of haste. But the party from the huts was not yet at hand, though it was coming with all possible speed to the rescue. "Ha, rogues!" shrieked Joshua. "In a good hour!"