in the water, one of the sentries, hearing the noise, discharged his
musket in the direction.

"Give way, now, as hard as we can," cried Newton; "it's our only
chance."

Another and another musket was fired. They heard the guard turned out;
lights passing on the batteries close to them, and row-boats manning.
They double-banked their oars, and, with the assistance of the ebb-tide
and obscurity, they were soon out of gun-shot. They then laid in their
oars, shipped their mast, and sailed away from the coast.

It was nine o'clock in the evening when they started, and at daylight
the French coast was not to be seen. Overjoyed at their escape, they
commenced an attack upon the provisions and a small keg of wine; and
perhaps a more joyful breakfast never was made. The sun rose in vapour,
the sky threatened, but they were free and happy. The wind freshened, and
the boat flew before the gale; the running seas topping over her stern and
forcing them continually to bale her out; but all was joy, and freedom
turned their "danger to delight." They passed several vessels at a
distance, who did not observe them; and before sunset the English coast was
in sight. At ten o'clock the double lights on the Lizard were on their
starboard bow. They hauled up upon the larboard tack with the ebb-tide, and
having passed the Lizard, kept away for Mount's Bay, to avoid the chance of
falling in with any of the king's vessels, and being again impressed. At
daylight they ran in under St Michael's Mount, and once more stepped upon
English ground. Here, as by previous agreement, they divided the
provisions, and took farewell of each other.

"Good-bye, gentlemen," said Collins; "allow me to observe that, for