About noon, the cutter was abreast of the Black Gang Chine:  Ramsay had calculated upon retaining possession of the cutter, and taking the whole of the occupants of the cave over to Cherbourg, but this was now impossible.  He had five of his men wounded, and he could not row the boat to the cave without leaving so few men on board, that they would be overpowered, for his ammunition was expended, with the exception of one or two charges, which were retained for an emergency.  All that he could do now, was, therefore, to put his treasure in the boat, and with Wilhelmina and his whole party make for the cave, when he could send notice to Portsmouth for the others to join them, and they must be content to await the meditated attack upon the cave, and defend it till they could make their escape to France.  The wind being foul for the cutter’s return to Portsmouth, would enable him to give notice at Portsmouth, over land, before she could arrive.

There was a great oversight committed when the lower deck was abandoned, the despatches had been left on Mr Vanslyperken’s bed.  Had they been taken away or destroyed, there would have been ample time for the whole of his party to have made their escape from England, before duplicates could arrive.  As it was, he could do no more than what we have already mentioned.

The boat was hauled up, the boxes of specie put in, the wounded men laid at the bottom of the boat, and having, at the suggestion of one of the men, cut the lower riggings, halyards, &c., of the cutter to retard its progress to Portsmouth, Ramsay and his associates stepped into the boat, and pulled for the cave.

Their departure was soon ascertained by the crew of the Yungfrau who now forced the skylight, and gained the deck, but not before the boat had entered the cave.

“What’s to be done now?” said Coble.  “Smash my timbers, but they’ve played old Harry with the rigging.  We must knot and splice.”

“Yes,” replied Short.

“What the devil have they done with Vanslyperken?” cried Bill Spurey.

“Either shoved him overboard, or taken him with them, I suppose,” cried Coble.

“Well, it’s a nice job altogether,” observed Spurey.

“Mein Gott! yes,” replied the corporal; “we will have a pretty story to tell de admiral.”

“Well, they’ve rid us of him at all events; I only hope they’ll hang him.”

“Mein Gott! yes.”

“He’ll have his desarts,” replied Coble.

“Got for tam!  I like to see him swing.”

“Now he’s gone, let’s send his dog after him.  Hurrah, my lads! get a rope up on the yard, and let us hang Snarleyyow.”

“Mein Gott!  I’ll go fetch him,” cried the corporal.

“You will—­will you?” roared a voice.

The corporal turned round, so did the others, and there, with his drawn sword, stood Mr Vanslyperken.

“You d——­d mutinous scoundrel,” cried Vanslyperken, “touch my dog, if you dare.”