The darkness was now more intense than ever, for a thick mist had come off the land, enshrouding the deck so that Sam could not see the knife he grasped in his hand, but his ears were strained so that he could make out the panting breath of his enemies as they came nearer and nearer, and to his horror he found that they had spread themselves right across the deck; and his imagination suggested that they had joined hands so as to make sure that he did not escape, literally dragging the deck from astern forward, so he knew that they were certain of him this time. His only chance seemed to be to run out on the bowsprit, and to try to get by one of the stays upon the foremast, but the men were so close that he felt sure they would cut him down before he had gone a yard. Crouching down, and backing, he was close to the capstan, when his foot came in contact with a fender--one of those heavy pads of cordage and network used to keep ships' sides from grinding on a stone wharf. In an instant he had caught it up, and raising it in both hands above his head he waited his time, and then, as the men closed up, he hurled it with all his force against the nearest, catching him full in the chest, and sending him down like a skittle, when, as he uttered a cry, the others believing that the man they sought to capture had sprung upon him, closed in with a shout, and Oakum dashed by them again. His triumph was but short-lived, for the men were after him directly, chasing him now more savagely than ever. Once or twice his bare feet had slipped on the wet deck, and he had shuddered, believing it to be blood; and forgetting the place, as now, panting and nearly exhausted, he was running on, feeling that the time had come to stand at bay, one of his feet glided over the boards and as he made an effort to save himself by a leap, there was a heavy crash, a fall, and he knew no more. STORY ONE, CHAPTER TWENTY NINE. AWAKENING. How long Dutch had been asleep he could not tell, but he was dreaming of some fresh trouble. He was diving, and one of the sharks kept striking him blows on the helmet, the noise seeming to reverberate within his brain, when, making an effort, he dragged the helmet off so as to more clearly see his enemy, and strike at it with his knife, when he awoke to hear noises overhead, the beating of feet, and, as he leaped out of his cot, struggling, a horrible cry, and he stood paralysed as the next moment the cabin door was banged to, and sounds came as of ropes being piled upon it. "In God's name, what does this mean?" said the doctor, who had leapt out of his berth, and was hastily dressing. "Heaven only knows," replied Dutch. "But quick! Miss Studwick! My wife! Get to their cabin door. Indians, perhaps, from the shore--an attack--we must save them." "Even at the expense of our lives," said the doctor in a low voice. "Have you taken my revolver, or my gun?"