The cutter was outpointing the yawl, and though at first to leeward was working up to the windward position. Conyngham gave a few quick orders as he grasped the tiller. The yawl swung about, and with loosened sheets caught the wind abaft the beam and tore away shoreward. The cutter came about also, taking a longer time at it, and, flying down just outside the edge of the breakers, made a bold attempt to head the yawl and turn her back before she could cross her bows. It came to be a question of minutes, and there was an added danger now, for the cutter opened up with a small bow gun, firing as quickly as she could load and aim. But, owing to the small size of the target and the uneven rise and fall of the chop, her marksmanship was bad, and though the balls whistled overhead and plashed all round, not one struck the intended mark. The Frenchman, who was now in a state of terror, began to call upon the saints. To Conyngham’s inquiry whether he knew of a safe entrance to the little cove at which they were heading he vouchsafed no reply. But as they drew near the line of breakers his wails increased. “We shall all be drowned!” he cried over and over. “Better a prison than the bottom of the sea.” But Conyngham, with one eye ahead and the other on the approaching cutter, held his course. In another moment he had crossed the Englishman’s bows, and as the latter fired a parting shot the yawl was in the midst of the smother of tumbling waters. How she got through it without being wrecked was more than any one of the crew could ever tell. Time and again they held their breath, expecting to be crushed upon the black points that now and then showed themselves on either hand. But with the skill of an Indian guiding his canoe down the rapids, Conyngham steered the little boat, and in half an hour she had safely passed the barrier reef and the worst part of the sailing, and soon was in the comparatively smooth water near the little beach. Now there could be noticed a few roughly built huts of stone before which there were some nets drying on the ground, and some frightened fishermen came down to the water’s edge. One of them hailed in half French and half English, to which Conyngham replied. The man informed them that they had better not land, as they had been seen by the Government lookout on the top of the cliff, and that in all probability the guards would soon be down and they would all be made prisoners. Evidently, like the cutter, the fellow had taken them for smugglers, but he gave the information that farther down the coast there was a small cove inaccessible and invisible from above, where they might be able to get ashore.