The smack kept close inshore, making slow progress till the entrance to the narrow creek behind the castle became visible then, before the rebels could understand that they had been tricked, the _Happy Adventure_ shot into the main tide, and with the wind and current was quickly out of gunshot. We saved our tide right through the Solent. At the sight of Cowes Harbour my thoughts flew back to the finding of staunch old Nicholas Firestone. I often wondered whether I should see him again. And Ralph Granville, too, where was he? Then the low-lying fortifications of Portsmouth were seen three miles or more on our larboard bow, and the sight of Southsea Castle, over which the rebel flag was doubtless floating, brought back memories of the double-dealing Chaloner. I had an easy conscience concerning the slaying of that man, for he was both a traitor to the King and a personal enemy to our house. "I'll stand in a bit, young sir," said the master, pointing to a low tree-clad shore. "Maybe, a fisherman will take you ashore. 'Tis the mouth of Chichester Harbour you can see yonder, and 'twill save you a long journey, though I cannot place you ashore here myself." Fortunately there were fishermen at work just below the Outer Pole Sands, and one of them expressed his willingness to land me. A quarter of an hour later the _Happy Adventure_ was nearly lost to sight as she headed through the drizzling rain towards the Looe Stream. The fishing-boat, a frail-looking craft with a tall, narrow sail set up by a single halyard on a slender mast, after the fashion of these parts--for there were half a dozen similar craft racing for the harbour--was not long in making the passage up the mud-banked channel, and just as the sun was setting I set foot in my native county once more, at the town of Emsworth. After giving the fisherman one of my two remaining shillings, I inquired the way, and stepped briskly out in the gathering darkness, knowing that a good many miles lay between me and Ashley Castle. CHAPTER XII THE POWDER MINE THE night was dark. The drizzle had increased to a continuous downpour, rendering walking a matter of difficulty, and from the time I left Emsworth till the time I came within sight of my father's home I never met a solitary wayfarer. It must have been nearly midnight ere the black masses of the castle loomed indistinctly against the darkness, and at the sight of the familiar building my heart throbbed violently. It was a certain amount of satisfaction to find that the castle had not been reduced to a heap of stone, like many I had seen in various parts of the country; but the question arose in my mind, Did it still belong to the Markhams, or were my people driven out by the rebels? A solitary light gleamed through the narrow window above the gatehouse, so that I knew that watch and ward was being kept. The drawbridge was raised, and at my feet were the dark waters of the moat.