"Lay hold, sir!" cried Tom, excitedly. "Yah! Cowards! Look-out!" was yelled behind Tom; the boat received a violent jerk as Dick Bannock gave it a thrust right away from the schooner, and simultaneously the men were deluged with water by a tremendous splash close to their side. Then a big wave rose and lapped over into the boat, striking Mark just as his fingers touched the tip of the oar blade, and the next moment he was swept on by the tide up the river. "All right, sir!" cried Tom Fillot, loudly; "swim steady. We'll have you directly. You, Dick Bannock, cut that painter. Now, then: oars!" He dropped down into a seat, and pulled a big stroke to send the boat's head round. "Here, help me aboard, mate," cried a voice. "And me, messmet," cried another, the two speakers holding on by the side which they had reached after being thrown from the schooner. "No, no, hold on, mates," cried Tom. "Let's get Mr Vandean first. What was that 'ere?" "Pig o' ballast they chucked over to stave the bottom," growled Dick Bannock, beginning to row. "If I hadn't shoved her off, they'd ha' sunk us." "We'll sink them yet," growled Tom Fillot. "Coming, Mr Van, sir. We'll have you directly. Easy, mates," he cried, throwing in his oar, and leaning over again toward where Mark was swimming steadily facing the tide, but letting himself drift, content to keep afloat. "Can you reach him, mate?" growled Dick. "Not quite; pull your oar," cried Tom. "That's right. Hooray! Got him!" This last was given with a yell of triumph, as he made a snatch at Mark's wrist, caught it firmly, and hauled the dripping lad over into the boat. "Thankye," said Mark, panting. "I'm all right. Now then, help these two fellows in.--Well done!" He said this breathlessly as he stood up and gave himself a shake, and then as the two men who had held on went to their places, he resumed his seat and looked round. "Who's missing?" he cried. "All here, sir, 'cept poor Joe Dance. I ain't seen him." "Ain't looked," said a faint voice from under the men's legs. "They chucked me over, and I'm afeard I've squashed poor Mr Russell, for I come right down upon him." "Then nobody's missing," cried Mark, joyously. "Look here, my lads; oars out--pull! pull!" The men obeyed as vigorously as they could, rowing back toward the schooner, but slowly, for the tide was running sharply still, and the fight was hard. "What yer going to do, sir?" said Tom Fillot, in a low tone. "Do?" cried Mark, excitedly, for his blood was regularly up; "why, have another try, of course." "Well done us!" said Dick Bannock, thickly. "I'm ready. We ain't beat." "No good, sir," growled Tom Fillot, in a low, deep voice. "We ain't beat, but we can't do it, sir, for want o' strength." "What?" cried Mark, who was determined upon his mad project--mad now in the face of so many difficulties. "There isn't a man here who will not follow me, and I'm sure you won't turn tail, Tom Fillot."