"Perhaps so," the Captain replied, who had for some time been scanning the horizon with a frowning brow. "What do you mean?" the hunter asked. "Look!" the Captain said, extending his hand in the direction of the fishing Tillage, to which we before alluded. Tranquil hastily took up the night glass: a dozen large boats, crowded with soldiers, were leaving a small creek, and pulling out to sea. The water was lumpy, the breeze blew strongly, and the over-crowded long boat advanced but slowly, as it was compelled to tow the pinnace. The peril which they fancied they had escaped, burst out again in a different shape, and this time assumed really terrific proportions, for the Mexicans were rapidly approaching, and would soon be within gunshot. The brig, whose tall masts were visible, was, it is true, only two cables' length, at the most, from the Texan boats, but the few men left on board were not nearly sufficient to make the requisite manoeuvres to enable the brig to help its boats effectually. The position grew with each moment more critical, and the Captain sprang up. "Lads," he said, "the ten best swimmers among you will jump into the sea, and go to the ship with me." "Captain," the hunter exclaimed, "what do you propose doing?" "To save you," he simply answered, as he prepared to carry out his design. "Oh, oh," Master Lovel said hastily, "I will not allow such an act of madness." "Silence, sir," the Captain interrupted him rudely. "I am the sole commander." "But you are wounded!" the Master objected. In fact, Captain Johnson had received an axe stroke, which laid open his right shoulder. "Silence! I tell you. I allow no remarks." The old sailor bowed his head, and wiped away a tear. After squeezing the hunter's hand, the Captain and his ten sailors leaped boldly into the sea, and disappeared in the darkness. At the news of fresh danger, Carmela had fallen, completely overwhelmed, in the bottom of the boat. Master Lovel, leaning out, tried to discover his chief. Heavy tears coursed down his bronzed cheeks, and all his limbs were agitated by a convulsive quivering. The Mexicans approached nearer and nearer; they were already close enough for the number of their boats to be distinguished, and a schooner was already leaving the creek, and coming up under press canvas, to ensure the success of the attack. At this moment a mournful cry, desperate as the last shriek of a dying man, came over the waters, and terrified all the men whom no danger could affect. "Oh, the unhappy man!" Tranquil cried, as he rose and made a move to leap overboard. But Lovel seized him by the waist belt, and in spite of his resistance, compelled him to sit down again. "What are you about?" he asked him. "Well," Tranquil replied, "I want to pay my debt to your captain; he risked his life for me, and I am going in return to risk mine to save him."