"They are lowering a boat from some ship near at hand," I whispered. "Quick, now! Get the fishing tackle, and cast the lines overboard, or we are undone."

Hastily we groped in the stern-locker for the lines; but, just as we were about to make them ready, we heard a sullen splash in the water close to our craft.

The next instant a pair of hands grasped the gunwale, and the dripping head of a man appeared over the side.

I doubt who was the more confused—we, at the sudden apparition, or the swimmer at the sight of two figures in what he had reasonably thought to be an empty boat, for we had been both kneeling on the bottom boards engaged in clearing the lines.

"Hist!" he whispered. "If ye be true King's men, give me shelter."

"Right willingly," I replied in a low voice, and, leaning over the side so that the gunwale almost dipped, we seized the man's clothing and helped him on board.

"A sorry shelter, but one that doth not come amiss," he remarked, noticing that our craft was entirely open. "I see a sail rolled up yonder; cover me up, and, if ye bear any love for His Majesty, betray me not. They will be looking for me here anon."

It was no time for questions or explanations. The fugitive crept underneath the forward thwarts and curled himself into a small compass by the side of the mast, which we had already stepped in order to lose no time when the tide changed.

Quickly I unfurled the sail, and, tossing it over the thwart, I noticed with considerable satisfaction that it fell in apparent and natural disorder over the place where the man lay huddled up.

Then, putting a brave face on the matter, we cast our lines and waited.

Before long we heard the sound of oars, and, rowing aimlessly hither and thither, there came a large boat. In the bows stood a man holding a lantern, which cast long reflections on the rippling waters, and no doubt dazzled more than served him.

"He's gone, sure enow, Baldwin," exclaimed a voice. "That first volley must have settled him."

"I was nearer than that at Newburn, and a whole platoon missed me," was the scornful reply. "Pull more this way, I pray you."

"Even if we had missed him," answered the other, "he had his jack-boots on when he jumped overboard. Against the tide he can do nothing."

"Pull this way, I say again," interrupted the man with the lantern. "I see a boat."

In another moment the pursuers' craft rubbed alongside our boat, and the light was flashed in our faces.

"Who be you, young masters?" exclaimed the holder of the lantern roughly. "And what are ye doing at this time o' night?"

"Fishing, sir. We be come from Newport," I replied, imitating as well as I could the tongue of the fisher-folk, though my heart was in my mouth.

"Didst see a man swimming?"

"Nay," I replied truthfully enough, for the fugitive had finished swimming the moment he had grasped the gunwale. "But we were sore afraid of the shots."

"What hast got under that sail?" he demanded suspiciously, holding the lantern above his head and shortening a small pike which he held in his right hand.

"Shame on thee, Baldwin," exclaimed another man. "Wouldst spoil an honest fisher-folk's sail with a pike thrust? Come on, let's away; we are but losing time."

The men released their hold of our gunwale, and their boat, drifting rapidly with the tide, disappeared in the darkness, only the faint glimmer of the lantern betraying their whereabouts.

"They're gone," I whispered to the fugitive.

"Yes, I know it," he replied; "but, with all due respect to you, I'll tarry here longer, for I am in no mood to take to the waters again. Canst put me ashore in a little while?"

"Where would you land?"

"It matters little, though I have a preference for the Hamptonshire coast, if gold can work the oracle."

"'Tis not a matter for payment," I replied with as much dignity as I could command. "And if you're for the King, we'll gladly place you on the nether shore, for, as fate would have it, we ourselves purpose journeying to Portsmouth."

"I perceive by your manner of speech that you are not fisher-folk," he continued, "though I cannot judge by your appearance. Nevertheless, I shall be heartily glad to stretch my cramped limbs once more, and then we'll talk further on the matter."

"Be careful that you do not raise your voice," I continued. "The sound travels afar on the water, especially on a quiet night."

"Ay," he assented, throwing off the sail and stretching his huge legs, which were still encased in jack-boots, under the thwarts. "Now I feel more at ease. Did I have but a pipe of stinging tobacco and a jugful of strong waters I'd be content. But why do you wait here at anchor?"

"Till the tide turns."

"Then a murrain on the tide, say I. Twice hath the tide treated me scurvily. Once as we left the port of Cherbourg, and again off Hurst Castle, where but for the force of the current I could easily have swum ashore. Knowing that you have not betrayed me, I'll tell my mission. Hast ever heard of Nick Firestone?"

"I remember my father speaking highly of one Nicholas Firestone, who gained great and honourable distinction in the Low Countries."

"Great, I admit, but I must needs cavil at the honourable, though 'twas only when hard pressed that I had to think of a whole skin before honour. And who is thy father?"

"Sir Reginald Markham, of Ashley, in the county of Hamptonshire."

"As good and brave a knight that ever set hand on hilt. And I'll warrant his eye is as keen and his arm as strong as it was when he and I fought side by side in the retreat from Rhé. Certes! A dozen such as he and things would have gone far different in that miserable affair."

"And what of your mission?" I asked, curious to know what circumstances had caused him to swim off to our boat.

"I'll tell you. Upon my person, sealed, and proof against water, I bear despatches in cipher from the King of France, to be delivered at all costs to His Majesty, the purport being unknown to me, though I know it is of inestimable value. Another trusted messenger, bearing a duplicate, has left for Dover, and a third has sailed from Cherbourg to Fowey. The last has the better chance, seeing that Cornwall is ever devoted to His Majesty."

"True, true, Master Firestone," exclaimed Granville, speaking to him for the first time.

"Then I take it you are of Cornish stock? I rejoice to hear it, though I know not your name; but, at the same time, I would inform you that I am Colonel, and not Master, Firestone."

"And he is named Ralph Granville," I informed him. "But concerning your perilous voyage?"

"I left Cherbourg four days agone in the barque Endeavour, of Lymington, and the first intimation of the inevitable rupture 'twixt the King and his rebellious Parliament occurred in a rude fashion by the Endeavour being boarded when off the Needles by the ship Bonaventure, lately held by His Majesty, but recently seized by the rebels, and forming part of the fleet that lay against Portsmouth."

"Though we carried naught that might be reckoned as munitions of war, some of the officers of the Bonaventure recognised me, and, thinking rightly that I was on the service of the King, they detained me, searching my baggage and person for any documents. Therein they were foiled, but how I'll explain anon. Finding nothing, they clapped me in a close and dirty cabin on the Bonaventure's main deck, allowing me to take the air on deck every four hours."

"At yester-midday the vessel came up under all sail through the Solent Channel, and stood over so close to Hurst Castle that I hoped to seize the chance of jumping overboard and swimming ashore; but so strong flowed the tide, surpassing the trotting pace of a horse, that the Bonaventure was swept back and compelled to anchor in one of the bays on the island shore."

"With the turn of the tide we made the harbour of Cowes, and again anchored for the