The voice was Fergusson's, and as soon as he was certain who they were he uttered an exclamation of thankfulness at seeing them again. Most of the party were asleep, but Kilick was also on watch a little farther off where the path opened out on to the beach, and he now joined them.
Roger quickly said his piece about having got lost himself while searching tor Clarissa, then asked how the prospects looked for getting away, and they gave him their report. The pirates had spent the early part of the night carousing in the house, but evidently they suspected that the escaped prisoners might attempt to get away by sea, as a sentry, who had been relieved every hour, had been posted on the boats.
That was bad news, yet Roger felt that the attempt must be made all the same. When he asked the time they told him that they judged it to be past two in the morning; which meant that there was less than three hours of darkness left. Rousing Dan he held a quick consultation with him, and they decided that to delay much longer might lessen their chances of success. Georgina, Roger learned, was still unconscious but for the moment showed no alarming symptoms; Fergusson woke the others and warned them to get ready, while Roger and Dan debated how best to tackle the sentry.
Owing: to the bright moonlight they thought it unlikely that either of them could creep up behind him and take him completely by surprise; so they concerted measures by which they hoped to overcome him between them. Dan was to do the creeping up to him, as near as he thought he could get undetected. Roger was to approach as though coming from the house, and engage the man's attention. Then Dan was to rush him from behind.
Roger watched Dan squirm away across the sand. Then, having given him ten minutes' start, he set off himself. Keeping in the deep shadow of the trees that fringed the beach, he headed for the house; but when he was half-way along the hutments that formed the slaves' quarters he altered course, and calmly walked down the beach towards the sentry.
The man halted, turned towards him, and apparently unsuspicious of a trap, waited until he was within twenty feet, then asked a shade uncertainly: "Qui etes vous?"
"Je suis Henri" replied Roger, that being the commonest French name he could think of.
"Henri?" repeated the man in a puzzled tone, and lowered the musket he was carrying from his shoulder to the ready. "Henri qui?"
By that time Roger was only ten feet from him, and did not reply. There came a sudden scuffling in the sand behind the sentry. He half turned, but thought better of it, and aimed his musket at Roger. As Dan ran in Roger dropped flat. The sentry went down without a sound under a swipe from Dan's sabre, but not before he had fired his musket
They had failed to prevent the alarm being given, so now everything hung on speed. As the report echoed round the bay Roger sprang to his feet unhurt and ran to the nearest boat. Dan was already on her other side. Seizing its gunwale they strove to drag it over the few yards of sand that separated it from the water; but it was a heavy whaler and its weight proved too much for them.
Within a minute their friends came racing up to their assistance. Three great heaves and the boat was afloat. Some of them scrambled in while others lifted the make-shift stretcher aboard on which Georgina lay. Seizing the oars they began to row frantically towards the Circe,
Lights were already appearing in the house. Shouts soon came from it. There were four other boats on the beach and any or all of them might be used for pursuit. Success or failure now depended on how quickly they could get aboard the Circe, haul up her anchor and set a few sails.
Ten minutes* hard rowing brought them below her counter. No lights had appeared in her so they had good hopes that she was deserted. Dan was already standing up in the bow of the whaler holding her painter, ready to make her fast before they clambered aboard.
Suddenly there came a crash of musketry from out of her broken stern windows. Kilick gave a shout and Roger a loud groan. The one had been hit in the shoulder and the other in the thigh.
In the stillness that followed the crash there came the rich laugh of a woman, then Lucette's voice cried from the dark windows above: "You fools! Had you not the sense to credit me with expecting you to have a try for the Circe? Pull back to the shore and surrender, or come aboard to be slaughtered. The choice is yours."
Fearful that as soon as the muskets could be reloaded another burst of fire would rake the boat, the men in her who held the oars were backing water hard. Roger was at her tiller and, although half fainting with pain, retained the presence of mind to turn her bow. With all their strength the rowers then pulled away from the ship. When the second fusillade came they were far enough off for the ill-aimed bullets to fall short and splash harmlessly into the water.
As soon as they were out of danger the rowers ceased their frantic exertions and lay, panting, on their oars. There followed a hurried council to decide what their next move should be. An anxious scanning of the beach showed that only a handful of pirates had come down on to it. The rest, presumably, were still sunk in a drunken slumber, and those who had turned out appeared to be engaged in a heated argument. It looked as if, owing to their small numbers, some of them were averse to manning a boat for immediate pursuit. Nevertheless, should the escapers attempt to land it was certain that they would be attacked, and at any time the pirates might receive reinforcements from the house. To take the Circe by assault was out of the question; and lights now appearing in the pirates' barque showed that Lucette had had the forethought to man her also with a skeleton crew.
It seemed their only course was to struggle ashore among the mangroves that fringed the water along the outer arms of the bay, and again take to the forest, until Wilson said:
"Anyhow, we've gotten the boat. Why shouldn't we make for Samt-Domingue in her? It's not much more than ten miles across the strait."
As no one had any better suggestion to offer, the American's proposal was agreed to, and they began to pull steadily towards the entrance to the lagoon. Meanwhile Fergusson did what he could for the wounded. Kilick's injury was not serious, as the ball had only scored a shallow furrow through the flesh above his shoulder. But that which had hit Roger had embedded itself in his thigh; so he had to submit to the agonizing operation of having it extracted. Fergusson did not think that the thigh-bone had been fractured but, as Roger could bear his weight on it only with great pain, that it had probably been severely bruised. In any case it looked as if the wound would render him hors de combat for some time to come, and they gloomily made him as comfortable as they could beside Georgina on the bottom boards in the sternsheets of the boat.
After half an hour's rowing they rounded the western point of the bay. As they passed out of it there were still no signs that their enemies meant to follow them; but on reaching the open sea they were confronted with an unexpected cause for dismay. A strong current was running dead against them and, pull as hard as they would, they could make only heartbreakingly slow progress towards Saint-Domingue.
When dawn came a little over an hour later it revealed them to one another as a haggard and miserable parry. They had found that there was no water in the boat and no provisions. Most of them were suffering from injuries of one kind or another, and two of them lay in the stern seriously wounded. Soon the sun would be blazing down on them without respite, burning and blistering them with its terrible heat. And, now that day had come, should the pirates choose to set sail either in the Circe or their barque in pursuit of them, nothing could save them from recapture.