"Never mind the pistols, lads," shouted a voice; "as well be shot as
drown. There isn't room for half of us in the boats; come on!" And a
second fearful rush was made, which bore the three gentlemen, firing as
they went, right up against the nettings.

"Bill," halloaed the man who was holding on to the foremost tackle,
"lower away; we shall be rushed and swamped!"

Bill obeyed with heart and soul, and down sank the boat below the level
of the upper decks, just as the mob was getting the mastery. In five
seconds more they were hanging close over the water, and whilst they were
in this position a man leapt at the boat from the bulwarks. He struck on
the thwarts, rolled off into the water, and was no more seen. A lady, the
wife of a Colonial Judge, threw her child; Augusta tried to catch it, but
missed, and the boy sank and was lost. In another moment the two sailors
had shoved off from the ship's side. As they did so, the stern of the
Kangaroo lifted right out of the water so that they could see under her
rudder-post. Just then, too, with a yell of terror, Mr. Meeson, in whom
the elementary principle of self-preservation at all costs was strongly
developed, cast himself from the side and fell with a splash within a few
feet of the boat. Rising to the surface, he clutched hold of the gunwale,
and implored to be taken in.

"Knock the old varmint over the knuckles, Bill," shouted the other man;
"he'll upset us!"

"No; no!" cried Augusta, her woman's heart moved at seeing her old enemy
in such a case. "There is plenty of room in the boat."