"Hurrah, hurrah, she's afloat," sang out Terence. Their two sick shipmates were speedily placed in the centre of the raft, and the rest leaped on to it. The Spaniards were close to them; one seized a rope which still held the raft to the shore. Quick as thought Hemming took one of the paddles they had prepared, and springing on shore, used it with such good effect that he drove the wretches back before him, then leaping again on to the raft, he shoved it a dozen yards off from the shore. As the Englishmen vigorously plied their paddles they saw the Spaniards making all sorts of frantic gestures at them, shaking their fists and hurling abuse at their heads. When they got from under the lee of the rock, they hoisted sail and found that the raft steered very well, and with the aid of the paddles made good way towards the land. Gradually the rock sank lower and lower in the horizon, till it was almost hid from sight; but when they looked towards the shore, that appeared almost as far off as ever. They had hoped to reach it before sunset, but that hope gradually faded away, as the breeze which had hitherto favoured them grew less and less, and finally sank into a calm. However, that was better than a gale, and they could still paddle on their raft in the direction in which they wished to go. They were also far better off than they had been on their former raft. It was more strongly made, they had better provisions, and the prospect of reaching land in a short time. The sun, however, went down, and they were still far from it. Jack and Terence sat side by side, and endeavoured to keep up each other's spirits during that long, long night. It came at last to an end. The sun rose; they looked round the horizon; no sail was in sight. Some of the seamen began to grumble, as even the best will at times, and to complain at having been enticed off the rock. Hemming overheard them.