footing of horses and the clash of arms. Checking his immediate

followers, he passed forward a step or two alone, even setting foot upon

the down; and here he made sure he could detect the shape of men and

horses moving. A strong discouragement assailed him. If their enemies

were really on the watch, if they had beleaguered the shoreward end of

the pier, he and Lord Foxham were taken in a posture of very poor

defence, the sea behind, the men jostled in the dark upon a narrow

causeway. He gave a cautious whistle, the signal previously agreed upon.

It proved to be a signal far more than he desired. Instantly there fell,

through the black night, a shower of arrows sent at a venture; and so

close were the men huddled on the pier that more than one was hit, and

the arrows were answered with cries of both fear and pain. In this first

discharge, Lord Foxham was struck down; Hawksley had him carried on

board

again at once; and his men, during the brief remainder of the skirmish,

fought (when they fought at all) without guidance. That was perhaps the

chief cause of the disaster which made haste to follow.

At the shore end of the pier, for perhaps a minute, Dick held his own

with a handful; one or two were wounded upon either side; steel crossed

steel; nor had there been the least signal of advantage, when in the

twinkling of an eye the tide turned against the party from the ship.

Someone cried out that all was lost; the men were in the very humour to

lend an ear to a discomfortable counsel; the cry was taken up. "On

board, lads, for your lives!" cried another. A third, with the true

instinct of the coward, raised that inevitable report on all retreats:

The Black Arrow