stream towards the enemy. Escape was now impossible. Darrell stood erect
in the bark, with his drawn sword in hand, prepared to repel the attack
of his assailants, who, in their turn, seemed to await with impatience
the moment which should deliver him into their power.

They had not to tarry long. In another instant, the collision took
place. The watermen, who manned the larger wherry, immediately shipped
their oars, grappled with the drifting skiff, and held it fast. Wood,
then, beheld two persons, one of whom he recognised as Rowland, spring
on board the chase. A fierce struggle ensued. There was a shrill cry,
instantly succeeded by a deep splash.

"Put about, waterman, for God's sake!" cried Wood, whose humanity got
the better of every personal consideration; "some one is overboard. Give
way, and let us render what assistance we can to the poor wretch."

"It's all over with him by this time, master," replied Ben, turning the
head of his boat, and rowing swiftly towards the scene of strife; "but
d--n him, he was the chap as hit poor Bill Thomson just now, and I don't
much care if he should be food for fishes."

As Ben spoke, they drew near the opposing parties. The contest was now
carried on between Rowland and Darrell. The latter had delivered himself
from one of his assailants, the attendant, Davies. Hurled over the sides
of the skiff, the ruffian speedily found a watery grave. It was a
spring-tide at half ebb; and the current, which was running fast and
furiously, bore him instantly away. While the strife raged between the
principals, the watermen in the larger wherry were occupied in stemming
the force of the torrent, and endeavouring to keep the boats, they had
lashed together, stationary. Owing to this circumstance, Mr. Wood's