"I know Sir Reginald well by name, though I cannot call him to mind. Yet I would not be doing my duty if I refused to aid the son of a loyal cavalier. Let him have a passage by the first vessel, Dixon, if he be willing to take the risk of capture." For the next three days I was at liberty to look around the town, for until Batten's squadron relaxed its vigilance or a kindly fog swept down upon the sea, escape was almost an impossibility. The journey by road was not to be thought of, for the Roundhead cause was strong in Dorchester, Poole, Salisbury, and, in fact, nearly every village and town in Wiltshire and Dorset, and no man, not a declared Parliamentarian, could travel through those districts in safety. On the morning of the fourth day after my arrival a thick mist hung over the harbour, blotting out everything more than a hundred yards away. The outlines of the hamlet of Kingswear could just, and only just, be discerned, while the ships in the river looked like enormous shadows as they swung to the strong tide. "Bestir yourself, Master Markham," said Captain Dixon, "if you want to get away to-day. The _Happy Adventure_ is to make an attempt to sail in an hour's time, if the mist holds." As my personal belongings consisted solely in what I stood up in, my preparations were soon completed, and in five minutes I was being rowed off to the vessel which, if Providence willed, was to take me homewards. The _Happy Adventure_ was a large fishing-smack, which had the reputation of being the fastest sailer betwixt Start Point and Portland Bill, yet withal she was bluff-bowed and had a good amount of freeboard. Her crew consisted of three men and a boy, besides which there were two passengers, a cornet of Lyle's Horse, and myself. She was to bear despatches to Littlehampton, whence the cornet had to ride with the precious missives to Arundel Castle, as the Governor of Dartmouth thought that the quickest and safest method of communicating with that castle would be by water. The huge brown sails were hoisted and the moorings slipped, and with a cool breeze that swept down from the hills in sudden squalls, the _Happy Adventure_ headed for the open sea. The blurred images of the castle and St. Petrox appeared to glide past on our starboard hand, and the next instant the coast was blotted out in the ever-increasing fog, which soon grew so thick that we could scarce see from one end of the boat to the other. Away on our larboard bow came the dull roar of beating surf, but the master treated this with perfect composure. "'Tis but the Mewstone," he remarked. "We must stand in more if we would avoid the rebels' boats. Bear away, George," he added, addressing the helmsman, "and try to clear the rock by the boat's length." As we approached the roar became louder, but above the noise of the breakers we heard the sound of oars, and a hoarse voice shouted, "Heave-to!" "Ay! ay!" replied the master, rushing to relieve the man at the tiller.