The _Emma Farleigh_, of the port of Looe, had been engaged to cruise off Lantivet Bay, in order to embark the young Squire of Trevarthake, who, having slain in a duel a relative of an influential gentleman of Bodmin, sought to flee the country. News of his intended flight had been noised abroad, and a party of horsemen had tried to intercept him. These were the men whom I had seen, and who tried to get between me and the sea just before my horse took a flying leap. In mutual ignorance, I took them to be friends, and they imagined me to be the man they were to arrest. The crew of the _Emma Farleigh_ saw me take the leap from the cliffs full forty feet above the sea, and never doubting that I was the young Squire of Trevarthake, they lowered a small boat and picked me up in an unconscious condition, and, strange to say, my sword was still gripped tightly in my right hand. They had, they told me, to force my fingers from the hilt. When they had me safe on board the _Emma Farleigh_ they found that I had a pistol bullet embedded in my left shoulder, but, being ignorant of surgery and unable to extract the ball, they washed and bandaged the wound the best they were capable of doing, and now, finding that I was not the Squire of Trevarthake, they had put their vessel about and were making for land. About midday the wind veered and increased to a regular gale from the sou'-west, and with the least possible show of canvas the staunch little craft flew before the howling tempest. I begged to be allowed to remain on deck, but Dick and his crew were obdurate, and insisted on carrying me below, where in a small and stuffy cabin I was tossed hither and thither, racked with pain, and showing symptoms of fever, while at every pitch of the vessel I thought she was plunging to the bottom. How long I remained below I know not, but suddenly the hatch was lifted off, and a flood of bright light filled the little compartment. The next instant Dick and one of his crew crawled down the steep ladder, and, lifting me in their arms, began to make their way back on deck. Directly I was taken on deck they closed down the hatch, and, laying me on the heaving, slippery planks, passed a rope round my body to prevent my being thrown against the lee bulwarks. All three men were on deck, looking anxiously ahead. As the vessel heeled I could see a range of lofty rugged cliffs, its foot being beaten by a long line of boiling white water, which at intervals leaped high against the dark, frowning face of the rock. "Can ye do't?" asked one of the men in a stentorian voice that was barely audible above the howling of the wind. "Must, or sink," shouted Dick grimly as he relieved the man at the long tiller. We had reached the end of the line of cliffs that terminated in a towering peak, dropping sheer into the sea, and, having cleared this iron-bound shore, Dick thrust his huge bulk against the tiller.