"I cannot leave you there, Dexie; you _must_ come back to me, and come quickly before you are discovered. I swear I will row you home at once, and not trouble you with a word," and the boat almost touched the vessel's side. It was heavily laden, and sat low in the water, and Dexie felt the distance between them was very short indeed. If Hugh insisted on reaching her, the struggle would be short and soon over, for nothing would persuade her to go back in the boat with Hugh again. She raised her arm; and the sound of a shot was sent over the water, followed simultaneously with a sharp, splintering sound, as the little leaden missile tore its way along the stern of the little boat. Dexie look around, expecting the sound would surely bring someone from below, and if that someone was not sober, Hugh was still near enough to help her. But no one appeared; she seemed the only living person on board. She looked back at Hugh. She had not hurt him, nor had she intended to do so, but she struck much nearer than she knew, and Hugh went back a stroke or two. "Do you believe I am in earnest now?" she asked, as she still held the revolver in her hand. "Go and bring someone for me while there is time, for I will never go back with you!" But as Hugh bent to the oars, sending the little craft so swiftly to do her bidding, the courage that had hitherto sustained her suddenly vanished. Alone and unprotected, what might not happen to her? But it was too late to call Hugh back now, so she must face whatever fate there was in store for her. What if Hugh had no intention of sending help to her, and should leave her there? Oh, for some chance to get away! Dexie had almost given up in despair when the muffled sound of oars was borne on her ears. She sprang quickly to the other side of the vessel and looked anxiously in the direction of the sound. Soon the rower came in sight, and by the stripes and epaulets of the wearer she recognized him as a military officer, whose strong, rapid strokes were rapidly taking him citywards. Oh, if he would only take her with him! Dare she ask him? The hitherto-despised soldier seemed an angel of mercy, as the hope of rescue sprang up again in her heart. But he is coming near, and she must not let the chance slip. How should she hail him? In what words make known her peril? She felt stupid, just when she needed her readiest wit. He was almost abreast the vessel before Dexie found her voice, and then in frightened tones came the cry: "Help, soldier! Help!" The soldier turned his head, and rested on his oars as he listened. "Help, soldier! Save me, I beg of you!" The pleading tones told that the cry was from someone in trouble, and a few strokes brought him to the vessel's side. "What's the matter, miss? What's wrong that you are calling for help? What can I do for you?" "Oh, take me away from this vessel! You are going to the city, are you not?"