Presently three men stopped the traveller, and asked the road to the port from which he had just come.  One of them struck a match and managed to throw a gleam on Jack’s face before the wind put the flame out.  By the same light, the sailor saw that the three men were muggers, and that they were not pleasant-looking people.  He disengaged himself and walked swiftly north for about thirty yards.  A thud of feet made him turn, and from one brief glance he knew that the men were making a rush for him.  He gathered his energies instantly, and struck off at his best speed.  He was an excellent runner and a good jumper, so that he gradually drew away from his pursuers until he lost the sound of their feet; but he knew that they were doggedly following, and that his only chance was to reach the ferry, and get the ferryman to help him.  Now this same ferry plied across a swift stream that ran into the sea about two and a half miles north of the place where he met the men.  The current was so very strong that no boatman could possibly row from bank to bank:  the boat would have been swept out to sea.  So a strong chain had been run across the river, and the boat was fastened to a ring which ran along this chain.  The ferryman simply stood in the bow of the wherry and hauled her across by main force, passing the ring along as he went.  Every night the chain was lowered into the water, and the man left his little boat, and went westward to his proper home.  It should be said that the chain could be wound from either bank, for a winch was placed at each side.

Jack was badly out of breath when he reached the ferry, and he felt minded to lie down, but there was no time for resting.  He ran to the water’s edge, and found the man and boat gone, the hut dark, and the chain lowered.  The stream poured past like a millrace, and he looked hopelessly on the swift water.  At first he thought of turning to take his fate.  He had his clasp knife and he could die fighting if they really meant to murder him.  Then he thought of his money and the good it would do at home, and he determined to try once more.  He ran to the winch and bent himself at it; the chain came up and gradually tightened until he saw dimly that the long arc was quite clear of the water.  Just as he had clenched the winch the foremost of the footpads came down the hill and shouted as he saw the sailor.  Jack got underneath the chain, took firm hold with his hands and twisted his legs round as though he were climbing a back-stay; then he began to haul himself across.  Before he had gone forty yards he felt that there was someone else clambering along that awkward support, but he knew that forty yards more would make him safe.  He was nearly smothered at the place where the chain dipped lowest, for the water was coming in freshets; but he hung on, and landed panting and with grazed limbs on the north bank.  By the shaking of the chain he knew that the mugger was coming along, and he decided in a flash to take strong measures.  There was a good surplus to run out, so he set the winch free.  He heard one loud cry, and then there was silence.  He had drowned the footpad.  The best swimmer on the coast could not have got to the shore in that place.