Two good men of the crew, both of whom our hero knew well, took the wheel, and the brig was soon on her course, with the wreck of the topgallant mast floating astern. The corvette let fly one more shot, but without effect, and she seemed inclined to fire no more. She had found herself gaining so fast that further firing would be worse than useless. Not only would it be a waste of ammunition, but they would be making a wreck of their own prize. Aye, the officers of the king’s ship were as sure of the brig as they were of the coming of noontime. They knew there was a bay somewhere ahead into which the chase would probably run; but they could run in as well and capture the bold contrabandists at their leisure. The brig was now within a few minutes’ run of the southern headland of Raven Bay, and between that headland and Hood’s Island was a broad, fair opening to the inlet beyond; but close behind it, lurking in the hidden depths like hungry beasts of prey were the sunken rocks of Dead Man’s Reef. The reef stretched the whole distance, on a line between the headland and the island; and never yet within the knowledge of man had a vessel larger than a common pleasure-boat dared to attempt the passage. No fisherman of that region was reckless enough to risk his smack over that death-trap. The true channel, the proper and safe entrance to the bay, was a mile further to the northward, between the upper headland and Old Man’s Island. “I tell ye,” cried a man of the brig’s crew, looking back upon the corvette and then ahead upon the point beyond Old Man’s Island, “we can never reach it in the world!” “Silence!” shouted the youthful pilot, in a voice that reached every ear, and caused every man to start. “I said I would save you. Obey me to the letter and I will do it. Stand by, all hands! Clew up the mainsail! Lay the yards square! Up helm! Easily! So!” The men were thunderstruck. They did not refuse to obey, yet they were sure they were going to wreck and ruin. Aye--for they were heading fair and square upon Dead Man’s Reef! What in the world did it mean? “Percy! Percy! You can never do it--never!” groaned old Rodney in an agony of terror. “I’ll do it, Donald, if you are sharp enough to follow me--to see that the helm answers my orders.” “I’ll do the best I can, dear boy. But--Oh, can ye do it?” “Wait and see.”