rowing as far as they could, the boatmen said they were in the direction
of the ship.

The boatmen all lay on their oars, and all listened intently.
Presently the creaking of a pulley was heard in the still night, at a
distance of a few hundred yards. This was enough. It was clear that
the vessel was getting up sail. The boat's head was turned in that
direction; the crew rowed steadily but noiselessly, and in a few
minutes the tall mast of a vessel could be seen faintly against the
sky. Just as they perceived the situation, a hail from on board showed
that their approach was now observed.

"Stretch to your oars," Cuthbert said, "we must make a dash for it now."

The rowers bent to their work and in a minute the boat ran alongside
the craft.

As Cuthbert and his followers scrambled upon the deck, they were attacked
by those of the crew and passengers who were standing near; but it was
evident at once that the chiefs of the expedition had not heard the hail,
and that there was no general plan of defence against them.

It was not until the last of them had gained a footing, and were
beginning to fight their way along the vessel, that from below three or
four men-at-arms ran up, and one in a tone of authority demanded what was
the matter. When he heard the clash of swords and the shouts of the
combatants, he put himself at once at the head of the party, and a fierce
and obstinate fight now took place.

The assailants had, however, the advantage.