“‘Hush!—­can you swim?’

“‘Like a fish,’ I said.

“‘Are you ready to try and escape, if I give you the chance?’

“‘I should think so,’ I replied.

“‘Then follow me, but don’t make the slightest noise.’

“I followed him.  We passed along the main deck, where the sailors were all asleep in their hammocks.  A lantern was burning here, and I saw, by its light, that my conductor was an officer.  He led me along till we entered a cabin—­his own, I suppose.

“‘Look,’ he whispered, ’there is a rope from the porthole down to the water.  If you slide quietly down by it, and then let yourself drift till you are well astern of the ship, the sentry on the quarterdeck will not see you.  Here is a letter, put it in your cap.  If you are fired at, and a boat is lowered to catch you, throw the paper away at once.  Will you swear to do that?’

“I said I would swear by the Virgin.

“‘Very well,’ he went on; ’if you get away safely and swim to shore, make your way without a minute’s delay to the French camp at Cap Rouge, and give this letter to the general.  It is a matter of the most extreme importance.’

“This is the letter, general.”

He handed a small piece of paper, tightly folded up, to Bougainville, who opened it, and read it by the light of the candle.

He gave a sharp exclamation.

“Quick!” he exclaimed.  “Come along to the tent of the prisoners.  I am warned that the capture was a ruse, and that the military officer is a spy, whose object here is to discover a landing place.  He is to escape the first opportunity.”

The three men at once ran out from the tent.  The instant they did so, the midshipman crawled in under the flap, rushed to the table on which the general had thrown the piece of paper, seized it, and then darted out again, and stole quietly away in the darkness.  He had not gone twenty yards, when a volley of angry exclamations told him that the French general had discovered that the tent was empty.

The night was a dark one, and to prevent himself from falling over tent ropes, the midshipman threw himself down and crawled along on his hands and knees, but he paused, before he had gone many yards, and listened intently.  The general was returning to his tent.

“It is no use doing anything tonight,” he said.  “Even an Indian could not follow the track of a waggon.  At daybreak, Major Dorsay, let the redskins know that the prisoners have escaped, and offer a reward of fifty crowns for their recapture, dead or alive—­I care not which.  Let this good fellow turn in at the guard tent.  I will talk to him in the morning.  Good night!”

The midshipman kept his eyes anxiously on the dim light that could be faintly seen through the tent.  If the general missed the paper, he might guess that it had been taken by the fugitives, and might order an instant search of the camp.  He gave a sigh of relief, when he saw the light disappear the moment the French officer had entered the tent, and then crawled away through the camp.