When I came up for breath, I heard a great uproar on board.  The crew were flocking to the bows to see what had happened to the anchor.  Meanwhile with a few more strokes I reached the other rope, and was hacking away at it steadily when I heard one cry out that the cable was cut, and immediately afterwards the voice of Vetch as he rushed out of the roundhouse.  I felt pretty secure in the darkness under the stern sheets, but the strain upon the cable here was much greater now that the other was gone, and when I cut it through the vessel gave a jump, I heard oaths and a great scurry of feet on deck and some one let down a flare to discover the perpetrator of the mischief.

You may be sure I dived under water as quickly as might be, but not before I was descried, and my head had barely disappeared when a heavy object fell with a great splash within a few inches of it.  I swam along like a fish beneath the surface, making towards the shore; but when for the sake of my lungs I had perforce to come up, a perfect fusillade spattered all around me, and it seemed a miracle I was not hit.  I swam on; the tide was bearing the vessel away from me; the flare lit but a narrow space of water, and I doubt whether my head could now be seen and made a target.  Though I heard the muskets roaring and slugs plopping into the water, not one of them touched me, and in a minute or two I gained the beach, pretty breathless, but marvelously content.

As I shook the water from me I heard lusty swearing from the deck of the drifting vessel, and from the tone of some of the voices guessed that the lookout was in very hot water.  And amid the deeper voices of the buccaneers Vetch’s shriller tone was quite audible to me, as he shouted for someone to drop a kedge anchor over the side and stop the cursed drifting.  This was done, but I was in no fears for the result, for under the force of wind and tide combined there was a considerable way on the brig, which no light anchor would avail to check.  And in a few minutes I knew for certain that I was right.

There came a great shout:  “She’s aground!” and the dark shape, which I could now barely distinguish from where I stood, ceased to move.

Satisfied that for a time at least I had prevented Vetch from putting to sea, I clambered up the cliff and set off to rejoin my companions, not venturing to go back for my coat, lest I should lose my way in the dark.  They had been eagerly watching the issue of my device, the success of which pleased them mightily.  Cludde made me strip off my dripping garments, declaring that if I stood in them (the night being chilly) I should catch my death of cold.

“That’s all very well,” I said; “but I shall be colder still stark naked.”

“You must just run about and slap yourself,” cries Joe; “Mr. Cludde and me can help—­me particler, my name being so.  And it won’t be for long, ’cos when that black Moses went off to do your bidding (he was a bit scared of some foolishness he called bugaboos), I told him to bring clothes and blankets from the house, knowing that the likes o’ that wouldn’t have come into your own noddle.”