"Come along, then!" said Captain Jemmy, opening the gate. "We may catch him before he goes on board." But scarcely had the pair set foot in the road outside when a voice commanded them to halt. In front of them, barring the highway towards Harwich, stood a sergeant, with half a dozen soldiers at his back. They seemed to have sprung out of the hedge. "Pardon, gentlemen; but you are walking towards Harwich." "We are." "My orders are to forbid it." "Who gave you that order?" "The General." "What? The Earl of Marlborough?" "Yes." "So this is how he trusts our word!" muttered Captain Runacles. "But, excuse me," he added aloud, "our business is with his Majesty." "I am truly sorry, gentlemen." "You decline to let us pass?" "I hope you will not insist." "Well, but I have an idea. You can march us into Harwich as your prisoners. Take us into his Majesty's presence--that's all I ask, and I don't care how it's done. You shall have our _parole_ if you please." The sergeant shook his head. "It's against my orders." "Then we must try to pass you." "Suffer me to point out that we are seven to two." "Thank you. But this is an affair of conscience." "Nevertheless--" "Confound it, sir!" broke in the little hunchback. "You are here, it seems, to frustrate our intentions; but I'm hanged if you shall criticise them too. Guard, sirs, if you please!" And whipping out their swords, these indomitable old gentlemen fell with fury on their seven adversaries and engaged them. The struggle, however, lasted but a minute. Six bayonets are not to be charged with a couple of small-swords; and just as Captain Barker was on the point of spitting himself like an over-hasty game chicken, the sergeant raised his side-arm and dealt him a cut over the head. Hat and wig broke the blow somewhat; but the little man dropped with a moan and lay quite still in the road. Hearing the sound, Captain Jemmy turned, dropped his sword, and ran to lift his friend. The stroke had stunned him, and a trickle of blood ran from a slight scalp-wound and mingled with the dust. "Jack, Jack!" sobbed his friend, kneeling and peering eagerly into his face. The hunchback opened his eyes a little and stared up vacantly. As he did so the dull roar of heavy guns broke out in the direction of Harwich, shaking the earth under Captain Jemmy's feet. It was the town's parting salute to his Majesty King William the Third. And at the same moment the leading ship of the royal squadron swung out of harbour on the ebb-tide and, rounding the Guard Sandbank, stood majestically towards the open sea, her colours streaming and white canvas bellying over the blue waters. CHAPTER VIII. FATHER AND SON.