The gallivats had separated into two groups; either they had been cut apart, or, more probably, the lashings had been burned through.  Around one of the groups Desmond saw a number of small boats.  They appeared to be trying to cut out the middle of the three gallivats, which seemed to be as yet uninjured, while the vessels on either side were in full blaze.  Owing to the intense heat the men’s task was a difficult and dangerous one, and Desmond had good hope that they would not succeed until the gallivat was too much damaged to be of use for pursuit.  He wondered, indeed, at the attempt being made at all; for it kept all the available boats engaged when they might have dashed upon the grab in tow and made short work of it.

The true explanation of their blunder did not at the moment occur to Desmond.  The fact was that the men trying so earnestly to save the gallivat knew nothing of what had happened to the grab.  They were aware that a gallivat had been cut loose and was standing out to sea; but the glare of the fire blinded them to all that was happening beyond a narrow circle, and as yet they had had no information from shore of what was actually occurring.  When they did learn that two vessels were on their way to the sea, they would no doubt set out to recapture the fugitives instead of wasting their efforts in a futile attempt to save the unsavable.

Desmond was still speculating on the point when another shot from the fort aroused him to the imminent danger.  The dark shapes of the two vessels must now certainly be visible from the walls.  The shot flew wide.  Although the grab was well within range it was doubtless difficult to take aim, the distance being deceptive and the sights useless in the dark.  But this shot was followed at intervals of a few seconds by another and another; it was clear that the fugitives were running the gauntlet of the whole armament on this side of the fort.  The guns were being fired as fast as they could be loaded; the gunners were becoming accustomed to the darkness, and when Desmond heard the shots plumping into the water, nearer to him, it seemed, every time, he could not but recognize that success or failure hung upon a hair.

Crash!  A round shot struck the grab within a few feet of the wheel.  A shower of splinters flew in all directions.  Desmond felt a stinging blow on the forehead; he put up his hand; when he took it away it was wet.  He could not leave the wheel to see what damage had been done to the ship, still less to examine his own injury.

He was alone on board.  Every other man was straining at his oar in the gallivat.  He felt the blood trickling down his face; from time to time he wiped it away with the loose end of his dhoti.  Then he forgot his wound, for two more shots within a few seconds of each other struck the grab forward.  Clearly the gunners were aiming at his vessel, which, being larger than the gallivat, and higher in the water, presented an easier mark.  Where had she been hit?  If below the waterline, before many minutes were past she would be sinking under him.