forty fighting men now mustered in the stolen ship, eight had been to

sea, and could play the part of mariners. With the aid of these, a slice

of sail was got upon her. The cable was cut. Lawless, vacillating on

his feet, and still shouting the chorus of sea-ballads, took the long

tiller in his hands: and the Good Hope began to flit forward into the

darkness of the night, and to face the great waves beyond the harbour

bar.

Richard took his place beside the weather rigging. Except for the ship's

own lantern, and for some lights in Shoreby town, that were already

fading to leeward, the whole world of air was as black as in a pit. Only

from time to time, as the Good Hope swooped dizzily down into the valley

of the rollers, a crest would break--a great cataract of snowy foam would

leap in one instant into being--and, in an instant more, would stream

into the wake and vanish.

Many of the men lay holding on and praying aloud; many more were sick,

and had crept into the bottom, where they sprawled among the cargo. And

what with the extreme violence of the motion, and the continued drunken

bravado of Lawless, still shouting and singing at the helm, the stoutest

heart on board may have nourished a shrewd misgiving as to the result.

But Lawless, as if guided by an instinct, steered the ship across the

breakers, struck the lee of a great sandbank, where they sailed for

awhile in smooth water, and presently after laid her alongside a rude,

stone pier, where she was hastily made fast, and lay ducking and grinding

in the dark.

The Black Arrow