They raged and roared at their men, but in vain--the boats were still drifting down stream towards the bend, and as the darkness was giving its first sign of closing in, the last one disappeared, the skipper saying quietly-- "Thank you, my lads. It was bravely done." A murmur rose from among the men, only one speaking out loudly; and that was the carpenter, who, as he took off his cap and wiped his streaming forehead, gave Fitz a comic look and said-- "Well, yes; I think we made a neat job of that." Some of the men chuckled, but their attention was taken off directly by the boatswain, who shouted-- "Here, you Camel, don't wait for orders, but get the lads something to peck at and drink. I feel as if I hadn't had anything to eat for a week." "Yes, and be quick," cried the skipper. "It's all right, my lads; I don't think we shall see the enemy again." CHAPTER FIFTY FOUR. "OF COURSE WE WILL." The next morning reconnoitring began once more, prior to the skipper giving his orders, and the schooner dropping down slowly towards the mouth of the river; for the mate had been up on the cliff soon after daybreak, busy with his glass, and had returned to report that the spot where the gunboat lay still fast on the rocks was so distant from the Channel through which the schooner had sailed, that it was doubtful whether, if they attempted to sail out, she could be reached by the small pieces that the enemy had on board. "Then we won't give them the chance to attack again," was the skipper's comment, and the wind favouring, the channel was soon reached, and with the mate conning the craft, they sailed outward along the clear water, with the men armed and ready for any attack that might be attempted by the man-of-war's boats. It was not very long before the boys, who had mounted aloft with their glass to watch the deck of the foe, were able to announce that boats were being manned for lowering, and the tortuous nature of the channel now began to lead the schooner ominously near; but both the skipper and the mate were of opinion that at the rate they were sailing they would be able to evade an attack. "And if they are not very careful," growled the latter, "it strikes me I shall be running one if not two of them down. They'd be much safer if they stopped aboard." But still the dangerous nature of the rocks forced them nearer and nearer to the enemy. "Not much doubt about the big gun being disabled," Poole remarked to his companion, as they noted how busily the crew were preparing to lower the boats. "We should have had a shot long before this." "And there's no doubt either about the screw being fouled," said Fitz. "I say, take the glass. They're doing something which I can't make out. You try." Poole re-focussed the binocular, but it was some moments before he spoke. "Can't you?" cried Fitz excitedly. "Yes, but I'm not quite sure. Yes, now I am. Right!"