the meantime, our fellows were getting on famously with the hoops of
the huge spirit-cask. 'Why, that is Richards' whistle,' he exclaimed.
'What the furies can this mean? Unbar the door!'

This was instantly done, and a man, a sailor by his dress, rushed in.
'The _Fair Rosamond_ is captured, and the preventive men are in
possession of her.'

My 'Quick! quick!' to the men, though uttered too loud, from the
suddenness of the surprise, was happily lost in the rageful outburst
of Wyatt. 'Hellfire!' he roared out. 'But you lie; it cannot be.'

'It is true,' rejoined the man. 'I and Clarke went on shore about an
hour ago in the punt, just to get a nip of brandy this cold night, as
you won't let us break bulk on board. When we returned, Tom went up
the side first, was nabbed, and I had hardly time, upon hearing him
sing out, to shove off and escape myself.'

We were now ready, and two of the planks just over Wyatt's head were
carefully turned over. He seemed for a moment paralysed--for a moment
only. Suddenly he sprang towards Mary Ransome, grasped her hair with
one hand, and in the other held a cocked pistol: 'You,' he
shouted--'you, accursed minx, have done this. You went out two hours
ago'--

I lifted my hand. 'Hurra! Take that, you cowardly lubber!' roared Dick
Redhead; and down went the avalanche of liquid, knocking not only the
pistol out of Wyatt's hand, but himself clean off his legs, and nearly
drowning Mary Ransome, her mother, and half-a-dozen others. A rope had
been made fast to one of the rafters, down which we all quietly slid