"Sir George Lisle! Sir George Lisle!" called out a well-known voice. "Your life is safe, and that of Mistress Lisle, if you attempt no escape--and no escape is possible; but I cannot vouch for your safety if you persist in trying to get away." But the fugitives gave no answer. "There she goes," gasped Ralph, as he strained more than ever with his shoulder against the square stern of the ill-shaped boat. "Oh, Ralph, you will do yourself a mischief," said Magdalen, "and you hardly well yet from your illness." The boat was moving, however. Sir George Lisle kept pulling in the warp, and the sand was stirred up all round. "Ah, what’s that?" said Sir George, as something whizzed past him and stuck in the sail. "Lie down, child, they are shooting from their crossbows." The splashes of the approaching horsemen seemed very close; one especially was urging his horse to its utmost speed. "’Tis Bowerman," said Magdalen despairingly. But their boat was really moving now. Hand-over-hand the warp kept coming in. The breeze off the shore came fresh and strong. "Jump in, Ralph," cried Sir George. With a last push and a violent leap, Ralph clambered over the stern, and fell in a heap into the bottom of the boat. "Thank the saints we are off," said the knight, as he pulled in the rude anchor over the bows of the old boat, which was now rippling through the water. Ralph had picked himself up, and was looking astern at the splashing figures of two or three men-at-arms who were still pressing on through the shallow water. "Aha, my friends, you’ll have work enough to scour your harness after this, but you won’t--Marry, what’s the matter!" he broke off in alarm, as the sail came tumbling down on their heads. "’Tis a quarrel hath cut the halyards," said Sir George in a smothered voice, as he tried to disengage himself from the thick sail. A loud shout of triumph from their pursuers told how near the enemy were, and of their certainty of success. "Not yet, my fine custrils," shouted Ralph, as he quickly climbed the mast to reeve the broken end of the rope through the sheaf again. A dangerous work, considering the excellence of the crossbow practice; and so it proved, for had not Ralph put on his back and breast-pieces before leaving the hut, he would have been mortally wounded, for one of the bolts rattled against the cuirass like a hammer riveting iron. "’Tis done, Messieurs, thank you," said Ralph, sliding down, and quickly bending the rope on to the yard, the old sail was run up the mast again amid a defiant cheer from Ralph and Magdalen. "Look at them," said Ralph, "you can see them safely through that hole in the gunwale. They are floundering along finely. Nay, my fine sir, ’tis not to your mind, I can see. Aha! ’tis best to go back. There they go; they have given it up," and Ralph bust into a roar of derisive laughter, in which Magdalene joined with her merry rippling voice. One cavalier alone seemed loth to give up the chase.