Beaten back at all points, Death-wing and his followers gave way. They gradually retreated towards a dangerous morass, and thence into a dense wood, whither it was deemed inadvisable to follow them. Indeed, it seemed impossible to follow them, for they disappeared like myths, or Will-o’-the-Wisps, in the marshy bog. When Lieutenant Garnet and his men were collected, it was found that many of them had been very dangerously wounded by the gang. It must be confessed that on this occasion Death-wing had used all his generalship and courage. But nothing could withstand Wildfire Ned Garnet, Bob Bertram, and the innkeeper. Of Tim it behoves us to speak a little. He got very roughly handled by his grim opponent, in the deep pit, but that was all. He extricated himself out of the hole. He then mounted a tree, and, there perched, had an excellent view of the battle by the light of burning buildings. He would shout out occasionally, “That’s it, Master Ned!”—“Give it to ’em, Bob!”—“Smash the rascals, my brave sailor boys!”—“Hurrah for Lieutenant Garnet!”—“Bravo, Wildfire Ned!” But Tim became so noisy during the combat that he attracted the attention of Death-wing. “Bring that fool down,” said Death-wing to one of his men, as he rode past the spot. “Bring that noisy fool out of the tree, and pitch him into the burning tavern!” “What a civil devil,” thought Master Tim, and clambered up the tree still higher. Death-wing’s orders, however, were obeyed. A skeleton, with a long dagger between his teeth, clambered up the tree. LOOK OUT FOR THE BOY SAILOR; OR, LIFE ON BOARD A MAN-OF-WAR. A most interesting and powerfully-written Tale, to be completed in about 30 Numbers. _No. 2, with No. 1, and a LARGE ENGRAVING, GRATIS._ LOOK OUT FOR SOMETHING NEW FOR THE BOYS! =A LARGE ENGRAVING= AND =VARIOUS PRIZES, GRATIS=. Full particulars in No. 6. [Illustration: “THE BODILESS LEGS WALKED SLOWLY ACROSS THE PATH.”] With a thick bough, which Tim had torn from the tree, he took deliberate aim, and dealt his enemy a tremendous thwack on the skull, when half-way up the tree, and knocked him down again. This trick Master Tim had played several times with great success; but ere long two skeletons essayed to climb up after him. For a few moments they amused themselves with firing at Tim with their pistols. This was very pleasant sport for them, but quite the contrary to Tim, who jumped about as nimbly as a squirrel, and after many attempts successfully hid himself in the upper part of the trunk! “I’m safe now,” thought he; but to his horror he heard his grim pursuers climbing up and probing the rotten trunk with their swords every yard as they ascended. One of their sword-blades grazed Tim’s shin, and he quickly fell from his perch right to the bottom of the trunk, and some three feet below the surface of the earth. For be it remarked the tree was an immense old cypress, which in all cases have hollow trunks.