And so they did; as the frigate swept around she let go her forward battery at the Erin and the shot shrilled above her in the dusk. But McHale held the little vessel upon her way; night was all but upon them, and he hoped that shoal water and darkness would assist him to elude the enemy. The gunnery of the latter was not now so good; she fired many times and did little or no damage; night had spread her bat-like wings above the waters when a last shot splintered the mizzen mast, and it fell in a tangle of rigging over the stern. “Take care,” roared Longsword to Ethan, who stood directly in its way. But the warning came too late; with a wild cry the lad was swept over the side into the sea; the lugger went rushing by, having changed her course to down coast; the lanterns of the frigate could be seen gleaming for a time further out to sea. But at last these, too, disappeared and Ethan Carlyle was left to utter darkness, struggling with the waves. CHAPTER XX SHOWS HOW A SOLDIER CAME OUT OF MILL PRISON It was fortunate for Ethan that he was a powerful swimmer, and at no great distance from the shore. He took the matter very coolly until he got his bearings; then he struck out for the beach. The pull of the undertow made landing rather difficult, but after a long struggle he finally accomplished it. He had no fear of detection, and boldly presented himself at a fisherman’s cabin and asked permission to dry his clothes. The fisherman and his wife gladly took him in; and they insisted upon providing him with supper and a bed. “I know what it is to fall into the sea in the night,” said the man with a shake of his head. “And I’ll not refuse an English lad like yourself any help I can give.” Ethan, of course, did not undeceive him; to have told that he was an American would have meant imprisonment; so he merely thanked the good people, and accepted their many little kindnesses without revealing his nationality. Next morning he discovered that he was but a half dozen miles from Plymouth; so, after insisting that the fisher folks take an English gold piece which he happened to have, he set out for the town. And as he tramped along the road his thoughts were upon the probable fate of the dispatch and of the lugger. “Both in the hands of the British,” he murmured dispiritedly. “There can be nothing else for it. And who knows, before another sun sets I may be suspected and taken myself.” He had no definite idea as to what he should do when he reached Plymouth; but something might be learned of the Erin, and that more than anything else induced him to enter the town. After wandering about for some time and watching the shipping and other things, his lagging steps halted before a great stone structure, grim looking and solid like a fortress.