Over the crest stormed the leading Grenadier, monstrous-seeming against the sky.
Kit fired at the man's cross-belts.
Down the shingle the fellow sprawled, whether dead or alive, wounded or whole, Kit knew not till he splashed into the water, and lay still in the flop of the tide.
Behind him came the smugglers.
As they topped the crest a star hung above their heads, then fell, flashing.
"Four—and—five!" came the Parson's voice.
"He's on us!" screamed Dingy Joe. "Sword and all!"
They broke away to right and left along the ridge like a covey of partridges when the hawk swoops.
Anything to get away from that avenging voice roaring out of a whirlwind of lightnings!
"After em, Knapp!"