A stern chase is ever a long one, yet the two pursuing boats came on apace, each urged by twelve rowers, whose efforts were encouraged by their officers. Meanwhile the batteries ashore, seeing that something untoward was happening, began to fire at our pursuers, though their aim was wild, and bid fair to harm us as well as our foes. Suddenly a bullet struck our light mast, and, cutting through the halyards, brought the sail down with a run. Uttering a fierce exclamation, Firestone tore away the folds of the canvas that enveloped him, and, calling on me to keep the boat on her course, resumed rowing, though I imagined it to be a forlorn hope, for, glancing over my shoulder, I saw one of the rebels' boats was but six lengths astern. Even as I looked a huge column of water sprang into the air, and fell in a shower of spray to the accompaniment of a crashing and rending of wood and shrieks and shouts of surprise and terror. A chance shot from the batteries had wrought havoc with the leading boat, and her crew were struggling in the water. The second boat made to the rescue, and at the same moment we saw a troop of dragoons riding furiously along the shore from the Castle--yet, though within easy range, they forbore to fire on their discomfited foes. Another twenty strokes and our craft's forefoot grounded on the beach. We were safe within the lines of the beleaguered fortress. CHAPTER III FRIEND OR FOE? SCRAMBLING awkwardly ashore, Colonel Firestone made straight for the captain of the dragoons, while, having secured our arms, Granville and I followed, leaving the boat to its fate. It was the first time we had seen our companion on dry land, and I was struck by his peculiar gait as he shuffled his jack-booted feet in a very indifferent manner of walking. The captain of dragoons, a slender, dandified man, looked with mingled astonishment and amusement at the strange figure approaching him. "Who are you, fellow, and what is your condition?" he demanded in an affected drawl. "Why should I declare my name?" replied Firestone sternly, his voice belying his appearance. "Sufficient it is to state that I am on the King's service." "I am but doing my duty," rejoined the officer, though with considerably less affectation. "Then do it. Conduct us to Colonel Goring. I am indebted to you for your good services, Captain whatever your name may be, but I tell you plainly I like not your style." "Chaloner is my name," said the other haughtily. "And mine, since you have so far unbended, is Nicholas Firestone, holding His Majesty's commission as colonel. Perchance, Captain Chaloner, my name is not wholly unfamiliar to you?" Instantly the other's manner underwent a complete change. "A thousand pardons," he exclaimed, "though, by the manner of your arrival, I was misled." And, ordering three of his men to dismount, he offered their steeds to Firestone, Granville, and me.