There was a faint click as he drew something from his pocket and without hesitation stepped boldly over the few feet which separated him from Harry Vine. Panting, half wild, hearing the whistles, the cries, and still divining nothing but that there were enemies on every hand, the young man uttered a hoarse cry as the detective caught at his breast. With one well-aimed blow he struck out, sent the man staggering back, and then, as those who had watched and waited came panting up, he turned quickly, stepped to the very edge, raised his hands, and plunged into the rushing tide. "Harry! my son!" rang out on the darkness of the night. But there was no answer. The black water seemed to flash with a myriad points of light, and then ran, hissing and rushing in a contending current, out to sea. Volume 2, Chapter XIII. "THE LORD GAVE, AND--" "Boat ahoy! Whoever you are--this way--boat!" "Ahoy!" came back from three quarters--from two different points in the harbour, and from out to sea. Then came another whistle from far back on the other side of the harbour, and in a shrill voice from between his hands Uncle Luke yelled: "Leslie, another boat, man, for the love of heaven!" "Here! you there, sir! the nearest boat--quick, pull!" roared the detective in stentorian tones. "Have you no light?" "Ay, ay," came back; and a lantern that had been hidden under a tarpaulin coat shone out, dimly showing the boat's whereabouts. "That's right; pull, my lads, off here. Man overboard off the rocks. This way." An order was given in the boat, and her course was altered. "No, no," cried the officer; "this way, my lads, this way." "We know what we're about," came back. "Yes, yes; they know," said Uncle Luke, hoarsely. "Let them be; the current sets the way they've taken. He's right out there by now." The old man's arm was dimly seen pointing seawards, but the detective was not convinced. "It's a trick to throw me on the wrong scent," he said excitedly. "Here, you"--to one of the local police--"why don't you speak?" "Mr Luke Vine's right, sir; he knows the set o' the tide. The poor lad's swept right out yonder long ago, and Lord ha' mercy upon him, poor chap. They'll never pick him up." "Can you see him?" roared the officer, using his hands as a speaking-trumpet. There was no reply; but the lantern could be seen rising and falling now, as the little craft began to reach the swell at the harbour bar. Then there was a hail out of the harbour, as the second boat came along, and five minutes after the rapid beat of oars told of the coming of another boat. "Ahoy, lad! this way," rose from the boat with the lantern. "Whose boat's that?" said the detective, quickly. "Dunno," replied the nearest policeman. "They'll pick him up, and he'll escape after all. Confound it! Here, hoi! you in that boat. In the Queen's name, stop and take me aboard." "They won't pick him up," said the nearest policeman solemnly. "You don't know this coast."