The course taken by the Chasse Marée would bring her along at a distance of some ten yards from the side of the lugger. At the moment a squall came, and the lugger's head turned a little towards the approaching craft. When she was just upon them Harry saw that his one chance of escape had come. With a sudden rush he knocked the man at the helm from his footing, and put the tiller up hard. The lugger paid off instantly. Black Jack, with an oath, turned round and sprang at Harry. The lad leaped beneath his uplifted hand, sprang at the Frenchman, who was standing with his back to him, and snatching the tin box from his hand leaped overboard.

Momentary as had been his hold upon the tiller it had been sufficient. The vessel had paid off from the wind, and before the helmsman could regain his feet, or Black Jack could seize the tiller, she lay across the course of the Chasse Marée; and in another moment the French craft plunged down upon her, and with a crash the Lucy sank under her bows, and went down with all on board.

As Harry sank beneath the waves he heard a shout of dismay from those on board the Lucy. When he came up a minute later he saw the Chasse Marée plowing her way from him, but no sign of the Lucy was to be seen. Harry was a good swimmer, and fortunately the dispatch-box which he grasped was water-tight, and buttoning it within his jacket he felt that it kept his head easily above the water. He swam as well as he could away from the spot where the Lucy had disappeared, for he knew that if Black Jack or the Frenchman had escaped being run down and should see him, his death was certain—not indeed that his chances were in any case good, but with the natural hopefulness of boyhood he clung to life, and resolved to make a fight for it as long as possible. Had it not been for the dispatch-box he must have speedily succumbed, for in so heavy a sea it was difficult in the extreme to swim. However, after a short time he turned his back to the wind, and suffered himself quietly to drift.

Hour passed after hour, and at last, to his intense delight, morning began to break. He saw on his right the low shores of the French coast, and looking round beheld seaward the British cruiser which had fired at the Chasse Marée. She was running quietly along the coast, and was evidently on guard at the mouth of the river. The sea had now gone down much, and the sun rose bright in an almost cloudless sky.

Invigorated by the sight of the vessel Harry at once swam towards her. She was farther out by a mile than the spot where he was swimming, and was some two miles astern of him. She was sailing but slowly, and he hoped that by the time she came along he would be able to get within a distance whence he might be seen. His fear was that she might run back before she reached the spot where she would be nearer to him.

With all his strength he swam steadily out, keeping his eye fixed steadily on the ship. Still she came onward, and was within half a mile when she was abreast of him. Then raising himself as high as he could from the water, he shouted at the top of his voice. Again and again he splashed with his hands to make as much spray and commotion as possible in order to attract attention. His heart almost stood still with joy as he heard an answering hail, and a moment later he saw the vessel come round into the wind, and lay there with her sails back. Then a boat was lowered, and five minutes later he was hauled in, his senses almost leaving him now that the time for exertion had passed. It was not until he had been lifted onto the deck of the Viper, and brandy had been poured down his throat, that he was able to speak. As soon as he was sufficiently recovered he was sent for to the captain's cabin.

"And who are you, boy, and whence do you come?" the captain asked. "Do you belong to the Chasse Marée, which we chased in the night?"

The officer spoke in French, supposing that Harry had fallen overboard from that craft.

"I am English, sir," Harry said, "and escaped from a lugger which was run down by the French craft just as you were firing at her."

"I thought," exclaimed the captain, "that my eyes had not been wrong. I was sure that I saw a small fishing-boat close to the Chasse Marée. We lost sight of her when a cloud came over the moon, and thought we must have been mistaken. How came you there in an English fishing-boat?"