The next moment the top-gallant sails of a ship of war showed above the head, but they could not make out the vessel, for, though her topsails were plainly visible, she was full a mile off shore; and our hero and Bill were in a hollow—they perceived a gig, with four oars, and a young lad in the stern-sheets, pulling out from under the head. “English! hurrah!” exclaimed Bill, with a cheer that pealed over the sea, and reached the ears of those in the boat. The men rested on their oars, and Bill waved a red flag, which he had brought in his pocket, in the air. Instantly another flag was waved from the boat, and her head turned for the beach. “Hurrah!” again shouted Bill, and both he and Lieutenant Thornton made for the beach; but as they came out from the hollow, and reached the foot of a deep descent, a loud voice from above hailed, in French— “Stand, or we fire.” Our hero looked up, and beheld more than a dozen men in uniform, some fifty yards above them, with muskets pointed directly at them. “Spring over the cliff, Bill, or we’re dead men;” and, with a bound, he threw himself over, instantly followed by Saunders. As they did so, a volley of musketry rattled over the spot, and shattered portions of the rock on which, a moment before, they had been standing. A man sprang up amongst the gendarmes—it was Augustine Vadier—who, shaking his clenched hand fiercely, exclaimed to the men, “Reload, or, curse them, they will escape, and then follow them.” The two Englishmen rolled over the ascent, with fragments of rock and red earth clattering down with them, for ten or fifteen yards. Unfortunately, a huge fragment of rock struck our hero on the head, leaving him totally senseless at the foot of the descent. Bill picked himself up, a little bewildered by the rapidity of their descent, but, seeing his master senseless, he gave a shout of rage, and cast back a look of vengeance on the gendarmes scrambling down the rocks; but the men in the boat shouted loudly, “Quick, quick; to the beach.” Lifting the senseless body of his master, Bill, with a desperate energy, rushed toward the spot where the boat had run right in on the beach. Another volley, the balls rattling all round him, expedited Bill’s movements; but a powerful ally had now come to his aid—the corvette had opened the scene of action; a flash, a wreath of smoke, and then the iron messenger struck the cliff above, scattering the splinters of the rocks into the very faces of the pursuing gendarmes. Augustine Vadier was struck to the earth by a huge splinter of stone in the right eye. The men threw themselves back and lay flat under the rocks, for another gun pealed over the quiet sea, and the iron storm—for this time it was grape—tore up the rocks within ten paces of the Frenchmen, which made them spring to their legs and retreat down the other side of the cliff, dragging the bleeding and furious Augustine Vadier with them.