“So we were,” Jack replied, “but, as you see, we are here now.  This is Lieutenant Myers, of the ‘Tartar.’”

“I’m awfully sorry!” Mr. Simmonds said, holding out his hand, and helping them to their feet.

“It was not your fault,” Mr. Myers answered.  “We forgot all about our Cossack dresses.  Of course you supposed that we were enemies.  It is fortunate indeed for us that you came here.  But I fear you must put to sea again.  There is a Russian camp two miles off on the hill, and the boat is sure to have been seen.”

“It will be awkward,” Lieutenant Simmonds said, looking at the sky, “for it is blowing tremendously.  I think, though, that it is breaking already.  These Black Sea gales do not often last long.  At any rate, it would be better to take our chance there than to see the inside of a Russian prison.”

“If you send a man along the road to that crest,” Lieutenant Myers suggested, “he will see them coming, and if we all keep close to the boat, we may get out of gunshot in time.”

A sailor was accordingly despatched up the hill.  The instant he reached the top he was seen to turn hastily, and to come running back at full speed.

“Now, lads,” Mr. Simmonds said, “put your shoulders to her.  Now, all together, get her into the water, and be ready to jump in and push off when Atkins arrives.”

When the sailor was still a hundred yards away the head of a column of Russian infantry appeared over the crest.  When they saw the boat they gave a shout, and breaking, ran down the hill at full speed.  Before they reached the village, however, Atkins had leaped into the boat, and with a cheer the men ran her out into the surf, and scrambled in.

“Out oars, lads, and row for your lives!” Mr. Simmonds said, and, with steady strokes the sailors drove their boat through the waves.

The Russians opened fire the instant they reached the beach, but the boat was already 150 yards away, and although the bullets fell thickly round, no one was hit.

“I think, Mr. Myers,” Lieutenant Simmonds said, “we had better lay-to, before we get quite out of shelter of the bay.  With steady rowing we can keep her there, and we shall be out of range of the Russians.”

Mr. Myers assented, and for two hours the men, rowing their utmost, kept the boat stationary, partly sheltered by the cliffs at the mouth of the bay.  The Russians continued to fire, but although the boat was not wholly beyond their range, and the bullets sometimes fell near, these were for the most part carried to leeward by the wind, and not a single casualty occurred.

“The wind is falling fast,” Lieutenant Simmonds said.  “We could show a rag of canvas outside now.  We had best make a long leg out to sea, and then, when the wind goes down, we can make Balaklava.”

For four or five hours the boat was buffeted in the tremendous seas, but gradually, as the wind went down, these abated, and after running twenty miles off the land, the boat’s head was turned, and she began to beat back to Balaklava.  It was eleven o’clock that night before they reached the “Falcon,” officers and men completely worn out with their exertions.