As there was no sign of our quarry it was clear that she was already round the point. Manning had doubtless seen Bobby's launch returning up the estuary and had wasted no time in getting away from "The Laurels" directly he had discovered Christine's flight. At the lowest computation he must now be at least six miles ahead of us. Provided the moonlight held, however, he would still be in sight by the time he reached the bar, and I glanced anxiously at heavy masses of cloud which were gathering ominously from the south-east. On we went, the water becoming rougher every minute as we forced our way into the trough of the incoming tide. Bit by bit the coast opened out on our right, until at last we were almost opposite the big clump of trees which marks the extreme end of the southern shore. Clutching the rail to steady myself, I once more raised my glasses. Then, in a lather of spray and foam, we suddenly shot out into full view of the sea, and at the same moment a wild, involuntary shout broke from my lips. There, not half a mile ahead of us, was the launch. She was lying broadside on under the full light of the moon, and one glance was sufficient to show me she had broken down. Even at that distance I could make out two figures working frantically at the engines and another huddled shape in the bows. "We've got 'em!" roared Bobby, above the throb of the pistons. He spun over the wheel, and, swinging round like a greyhound on the trail, we leaped seaward straight for our helpless prey. I found Campbell standing beside me, a revolver gripped in his hand. "If there's any sign of trouble," he said quietly, "shoot at once. You keep your eye on Craill and I'll look after Manning." I had rather it had been the other way on, but there was no time for arguing. Even as he spoke I saw Manning fling down his useless spanner, and, wiping his hands coolly with a piece of cotton waste, step up into the stern. Craill followed, his evil, scowling face in strange contrast to the smiling calm of the other. Slackening speed at just the right moment, Bobby brought us alongside with masterly precision. Campbell leaned forward, his eyes fixed grimly on the pair of them. "It's no use, doctor," he said, "your luck's out this time." With a ghastly sound, half-way between a sob and a scream, the gaunt figure of de Roda rose suddenly from the deck. A torrent of Spanish curses burst from his throat, and, dropping the bag of diamonds which he was still holding, he staggered to the side, shaking his fists at us in a frenzy of maniacal rage. I heard a low cry of anguish beside me, and, as I half turned round, I saw Manning and Craill whip out their revolvers. I think we must all have fired simultaneously. The only thing I actually remember is a blinding crash in my head as I pitched forward against the rails. * * * * *