In his turn, Griffith walked away, in haughty silence, as if disdaining to hold communion with his former friend. Barnstable paused a moment, from a deference that long habit had created for his superior officer, and which was not to be shaken off by every burst of angry passion; but perceiving that the other had no intention to return, he ordered the seamen to raise the boat from the sand, and bear it bodily into the water. The command was instantly obeyed; and, by the time the young lieutenant was in his seat, the barge was floating in the still heavy though no longer dangerous surf, and the crew sprang into their places. “Bear her off, boys!” he cried; “never mind a wet jacket. I've seen many a worthy fellow tumbling on this beach in a worse time than this! Now you have her head to sea; give way, my souls, give way.” The seamen rose simultaneously at their oars, and by an united effort obtained the command of their boat; which, after making a few sudden ascents, and as many heavy pitches in the breakers, gained the smoother seas of the swelling ocean, and stemmed the waters in a direction for the place where the Alacrity was supposed to be in waiting. CHAPTER XXXI. “His only plot was this--that, much provoked. He raised his vengeful arm against his country.” _Thomson_. Alice Duncombe remained on the sands, watching the dark spot that was soon hid amid the waves in the obscurity of night, and listening, with melancholy interest, to the regulated sounds of the oars, which were audible long after the boat had been blended with the gloomy outline of the eastern horizon. When all traces of her departed friends were to be found only in her own recollections, she slowly turned from the sea, and hastening to quit the bustling throng that were preparing for the embarkation of the rest of the party, she ascended the path that conducted her once more to the summit of those cliffs along which she had so often roved, gazing at the boundless element that washed their base, with sensations that might have been peculiar to her own situation. The soldiers of Borroughcliffe, who were stationed at the head of the pass, respectfully made way; nor did any of the sentinels of Manual heed her retiring figure, until she approached the rear guard of the marines, who were commanded by their vigilant captain in person. “Who goes there?” cried Manual, advancing without the dusky group of soldiers, as she approached them. “One who possesses neither the power nor the inclination to do ye harm,” answered the solitary female; “'tis Alice Dunscombe, returning, by permission of your leader, to the place of her birth.” “Ay,” muttered Manual, “this is one of Griffith's unmilitary exhibitions of his politeness! Does the man think that there was ever a woman who had no tongue! Have you the countersign, madam, that I may know you bear a sufficient warrant to pass?”