There was great anxiety in Gibraltar that night, for the wind was very light and from the wrong direction and, in the morning, it was seen that the greater portion of the convoy had drifted far away to the east.  Soon after noon, however, the Edgar managed to get in with the Spanish admiral’s flagship ­the Phoenix, of eighty guns ­and in the evening the Prince George, with eleven or twelve ships, worked in round Europa Point; but Admiral Rodney, with the main body of the fleet and the prizes, was forced to anchor off Marbella ­a Spanish town ­fifteen leagues east of Gibraltar.  It was not until seven or eight days later that the whole of the fleet and convoy arrived in the port.

On the 29th a transport came in with the 2nd battalion of the 73rd Regiment, with 944 rank and file.  A large number of heavy cannon, from the prizes, were landed; and several hundreds of barrels of powder, in addition to those brought out with the convoy.  Great stores of salt provisions and supplies of flour had been brought out but, unfortunately, little could be done towards providing the garrison with a supply of fresh meat.  Had Admiral Rodney been able to remain with his fleet at Gibraltar, supplies could have been brought across from the African coast; but the British fleet was required elsewhere, and the relief afforded was a temporary one.  The garrison was, however, relieved by a large number of the soldiers’ wives and children being put on board the merchantmen, and sent home to England.  Many of the poor inhabitants were also taken, either to Barbary or Portugal.

While the fleet was in port, the Spanish blockading squadron was moored close under the guns of Algeciras; and booms were laid round them, to prevent their being attacked by the boats of the British fleet.  An opportunity was taken, of the presence of the Spanish admiral in Gibraltar, to arrange for an exchange of prisoners; and on the 13th of February the fleet sailed away, and the blockade was renewed by the Spaniards.

After the departure of the fleet, many months passed monotonously.  The enemy were ever increasing and strengthening their works, which now mounted a great number of cannon; but beyond an occasional interchange of a few shots, hostilities were carried on languidly.  The enemy made two endeavours to burn the British vessels, anchored under the guns of the batteries, by sending fire ships down upon them; but the crews of the ships of war manned the boats and, going out to meet them, towed them ashore; where they burned out without doing damage, and the hulls, being broken up, afforded a welcome supply of fuel.

The want of fresh meat and vegetables operated disastrously upon the garrison.  Even before the arrival of the relieving fleet, scurvy had shown itself; and its ravages continued, and extended, as months went on.  The hospitals became crowded with sufferers ­a third of the force being unfit for any duty ­while there were few but were more or less affected by it.

As soon as it became severe, Captain O’Halloran and his wife decided to sell no more vegetables; but sent the whole of their supply, beyond what was needed for their personal consumption, to the hospitals.

During these eight months, only a few small craft had managed to elude the vigilance of the enemy’s cruisers and, frequently, foe many weeks at a time, no news of any kind from without reached the besieged.  The small supplies of fresh meat that had, during the early part of the siege, been brought across in small craft from Barbary, had for some time ceased altogether; for the Moors of Tangiers had, under pressure of the Spaniards, broken off their alliance with us and joined them and, in consequence, not only did supplies cease to arrive, but English vessels entering the Straits were no longer able to anchor, as they had before done, under the guns of the Moorish batteries for protection from the Spanish cruisers.

Several times there were discussions between Bob, his sister, and Captain O’Halloran as to whether it would not be better for him to take the first opportunity that offered of returning to England.  Their argument was that he was wasting his time, but to this he would not at all agree.

“I am no more wasting it, here, than if I were in Philpot Lane,” he said.  “It will be plenty of time for me to begin to learn the routine of the business, when I am two or three and twenty.  Uncle calculated I should be four years abroad, learning the languages and studying wines.  Well, I can study wines at any time; besides, after all, it is the agents out here that choose them.  I can speak Spanish, now, like a native, and there is nothing further to be done in that way; I have given up lessons now with the doctor, but I get plenty of books from the garrison library, and keep up my reading.  As for society, we have twenty times as much here, with the officers and their families, as I should have in London; and I really don’t see there would be any advantage, whatever, in my going back.

“Something must be done here, some day.  And after all, the siege does not make much difference, in any way, except that we don’t get fresh meat for dinner.  Everything goes on just the same only, I suppose, in peace time we should make excursions, sometimes, into Spain.  The only difference I can make out is that I am able to be more useful to you, now, with the garden and poultry, than I could have been if there had been no siege.”

There was indeed no lack of society.  The O’Hallorans’ was perhaps the most popular house on the Rock.  They were making quite a large income from their poultry, and spent it freely.  Presents of eggs, chicken, and vegetables were constantly being sent to all their friends, where there was any sickness in the family; and as, even at the high prices prevailing, they were able to purchase supplies of wine, and such other luxuries as were obtainable, they kept almost open house and, twice a week, had regular gatherings with music; and the suppers were vastly more appreciated, by their guests, than is usually the case at such entertainments.

Early in September, when scurvy was still raging, the doctor was, one day, lamenting the impossibility of obtaining oranges and lemons.

“It makes one’s heart ache,” he said, “to see the children suffer.  It is bad enough that strong men should be scarcely able to crawl about; but soldiers must take their chances, whether they come from shot or from scurvy; but it is lamentable to see the children fading away.  We have tried everything ­acids and drugs of all sorts ­but nothing does any good.  As I told you, I saw the scurvy on the whaling trip I went, and I am convinced that nothing but lemon juice, or an absolutely unlimited amount of vegetables, will do any good.”

A week previously, a small privateer had come in with some mailbags, which she had brought on from Lisbon.  Among them was a letter to Bob from the owners of the Antelope.  It had been written months before, after the arrival of the brig and her two prizes in England.  It said that the two vessels and their cargoes had been sold, and the prize-money divided; and that his share amounted to three hundred and thirty-two pounds, for which sum an order upon a firm of merchants at Gibraltar was inclosed.  The writers also said that, after consultation with Captain Lockett, from whom they had heard of the valuable services he had rendered, the owners of the Antelope had decided ­as a very small mark of their appreciation, and gratitude ­to present him with a service of plate, to the value of five hundred pounds, and in such form as he might prefer on his return to England.

He had said nothing to his sister of this letter, as his intention was to surprise her with some present.  But the doctor’s words now determined him to carry into effect an idea that had before occurred to him, upon seeing so many sickly children among the families of the officers of their acquaintance.

“Look here, doctor,” he said, “I mean to go out and try and get a few boxes of oranges and lemons; but mind, nobody but you and I must know anything about it.”

“How on earth do you mean to do it, Bob?”

“Well, I have not settled, yet; but there can’t be any difficulty about getting out.  I might go down to the Old Mole, and swim from there to the head of the bay; or I might get some of the fishermen to go round the point, and land me to the east, well beyond the Spanish lines.”

“You couldn’t do that, Bob; there is too sharp a lookout kept on the batteries.  No craft is allowed to go any distance from the Rock, as they are afraid of the Spaniards learning the state to which we are reduced, by illness.  If you did swim to the head of the bay, as you talk about, you would be certain to be captured at once, by the Spaniards; and in that case you would, as likely as not, be shot as a spy.”

“Still, deserters do get out, you know, doctor.  There is scarcely a week that two or three don’t manage to get away.  I mean to try, anyhow.  If you like to help me, of course it will make it easier; if not, I shall try by myself.”

“Gerald and your sister would never forgive me, if anything happened to you, Bob.”

“There is no occasion for them to know anything about it.  Anyhow, I shall say nothing to them.  I shall leave a note behind me, saying that I am going to make an attempt to get out, and bring back a boat full of oranges and lemons.  I am past seventeen, now; and am old enough to act for myself.  I don’t think, if the thing is managed properly, there is any particular risk about it.  I will think it over, by tomorrow, and tell you what plan I have fixed on.”

On the following day, Bob told the doctor that there were two plans.

“The first is to be lowered by a rope, down at the back of the Rock.  That is ever so much the simplest.  Of course, there is no difficulty about it if the rope is long enough.  Some of the deserters have failed because the rope has been too short, but I should take care to get one long enough.  The only fear is the sentries; I know that there are lots of them posted about there, on purpose to prevent desertion.”

“Quite so, Bob; and no one is allowed to go along the paths after dark, except on duty.”

“Yes.

“Well, the other plan is to go out with the party that furnishes the sentries, down on the neutral ground; choose some dark night, manage to get separated from them, as they march out, and then make for the shore and take to the water.  Of course, if one could arrange to have the officer with the party in the secret, it would make it easy enough.”

“It might be done, that way,” the doctor said, thoughtfully.  “Have you quite made up your mind to do this thing, Bob?”

“I have quite made up my mind to try, anyhow.”

“Well, if you mean to try, Bob, it is just as well that you shouldn’t get shot, at the start.  I have just been round to the orderly room.  Our regiment furnishes the pickets on the neutral ground, tonight.  Captain Antrobus commands the party.  He is a good fellow and, as he is a married man, and all four of his children are bad with scurvy, he would feel an interest in your attempt.

“You know him as well as I do.  If you like, I will go with you to his quarters, and see what we can do with him.”

They at once set out.

“Look here, Antrobus,” the doctor said, after asking that officer to come out for a chat with him, “if we don’t get some lemon juice, I am afraid it will go very hard with a lot of the children.”

“Yes, we have known that for some time, doctor.”

“Well, Repton here has made up his mind to try to get out of the place, and make his way to Malaga, and get a boatload of fruit and try to bring it in.  Of course he will go dressed as a native, and he speaks Spanish well enough to pass anywhere, without suspicion.  So, once beyond the lines, I don’t see much difficulty in his making his way to Malaga.  Whether he will get back again is another matter, altogether.  That is his business.  He has plenty of money to purchase the fruit, when he arrives there; and to buy a boat, and all that sort of thing.

“The difficulty is in getting out.  Now, nobody is going to know how he does this, except our three selves.”

“But why do you come to me, Burke?”

“Because you command the guard, tonight, on the neutral ground.  What he proposes is that he should put on a soldier’s greatcoat and cap, and take a firelock and, in the dark, fall in with your party.  When you get well out on the neutral ground, he could either slip away and take his chance or, what would be better still, he might be in the party you take forward to post as sentries, and you could take him along with you, so that he would go with you as far as the shore; and could then slip away, come back a bit, so as to be out of sight of the farthest sentry, and then take to the water.

“He can swim like a fish, and what current there is will be with him; so that, before it began to be light, he could land two or three miles beyond the Spanish lines.  He is going to leave a note behind, for O’Halloran, saying he has left; but no one will know whether he got down at the back of the Rock, or swam across the bay, or how he has gone.

“I have tried to dissuade him; but he has made up his mind to try it and, seeing that ­if he succeeds ­it may save the lives of scores of children, I really cannot refuse to help him.”

“Well, I don’t know,” Captain Antrobus said.  “There certainly does not seem much risk in his going out, as you say.  I should get a tremendous wigging, no doubt, if he is discovered, and it was known that I had a hand in it; but I would not mind risking that, for the sake of the children.

“But don’t take a firelock, Repton.  The sergeants would be sure to notice that there was an extra man.  You had better join us, just as we set out.  I will say a word or two to you, then do you follow on, in the dark.  The men will suppose you are one of the drummers I am taking with me, to serve as a messenger, or something of that sort.  That way you can follow close behind me, while I am posting the sentries after leaving the main body at the guardhouse.  After posting the last man at the seashore, I can turn off with you for a few yards, as if giving you an order.

“Then I will go back and stay for a time with the last sentry, who will naturally think that the drummer has been sent back to the guardhouse.  I will recommend him to be vigilant, and keep by him for some time, till I am pretty sure you have taken to the water and swam past; so that if the sentry should hear a splash, or anything, I can say it can only be a fish; and that, at any rate, it would not do to give an alarm, as it cannot be anything of consequence.

“You see, you don’t belong to the garrison, and it is no question of assisting a deserter to escape.  Anyhow, I will do it.”

Thanking Captain Antrobus greatly, for his promise of assistance, Bob went off into the town; where he bought a suit of Spanish clothes, such as would be appropriate for a small farmer or trader.  He then presented his letter of credit at the merchant’s, and drew a hundred pounds, which he obtained in Spanish gold.  This money and the clothes he put in an oilskin bag, of which the mouth was securely closed.  This he left at the doctor’s.

As soon as it became dark he went down again.  The doctor had a greatcoat and hat in readiness for him ­there being plenty of effects of men who had died in the hospital ­and as soon as Bob had put them on, walked across ­with Bob following him ­to the spot where Captain Antrobus’ company were falling in.  Just as they were about to march, the doctor went up to the captain; who after a word or two with him said to Bob, in a voice loud enough to be heard by the noncommissioned officer, close to him: 

“Well, you will keep by me.”

The night was a dark one, and the party made their way down to the gate, where the passwords were exchanged; and the company then moved along by the narrow pathway between the artificial inundation and the foot of the Rock.  They continued their way until they arrived at the building that served as the main guard of the outlying pickets.  Here two-thirds of the company were left; and the captain led the others out, an officer belonging to the regiment whose men he was relieving accompanying him.  As the sentries were posted the men relieved fell in, under the orders of their officer and, as soon as the last had been relieved, they marched back to the guardhouse.

A minute later, Captain Antrobus turned to Bob.

“You need not wait,” he said.  “Go back to the guardhouse.  Mind how you go.”

Bob saluted and turned off, leaving the officer standing by the sentry.  He went some distance back, then walked down the sand to the water’s edge, and waded noiselessly into the water.  The oilskin bag was, he knew, buoyant enough to give him ample support in the water.

When he was breast deep, he let his uniform cloak slip off his shoulders; allowed his shoes to sink to the bottom, and his three-cornered hat to float away.  The doctor had advised him to do this.

“If you leave the things at the edge of the water, Bob, it will be thought that somebody has deserted; and then there will be a lot of questions, and inquiries.  You had better take them well out into the sea with you, and then let them go.  They will sink, and drift along under water and, if they are ever thrown up, it will be far beyond our lines.  In that way, as the whole of the guard will answer to their names, when the roll is called tomorrow, no one will ever give a thought to the drummer who fell in at the last moment; or, if one of them does think of it, he will suppose that the captain sent him into the town, with a report.”

The bag would have been a great encumbrance, had Bob wanted to swim fast.  As it was, he simply placed his hands upon it, and struck out with his feet, making straight out from the shore.  This he did for some ten minutes; and then, being certain that he was far beyond the sight of anyone on shore, he turned and, as nearly as he could, followed the line of the coast.  The voices of the sentries calling to each other came across the sea, and he could make out a light or two in the great fort at the water’s edge.

It was easy work.  The water was, as nearly as possible, the temperature of his body; and he felt that he could remain for any time in it, without inconvenience.  The lights in the fort served as a mark by which he could note his progress; and an hour after starting he was well abreast of them, and knew that the current must be helping him more than he had expected it would do.

Another hour, and he began to swim shorewards; as the current might, for aught he knew, be drifting him somewhat out into the bay.  When he was able to make out the dark line ahead of him, he again resumed his former course.  It was just eight o’clock when the guard had passed through the gate.  He had started half an hour later.  He swam what seemed to him a very long time, but he had no means of telling how the time passed.

When he thought it must be somewhere about twelve o’clock, he made for the shore.  He was sure that, by this time, he must be at least three miles beyond the fort; and as the Spanish camps lay principally near San Roque, at the head of the bay, and there were no tents anywhere by the seashore, he felt sure that he could land, now, without the slightest danger.

Here, then, he waded ashore, stripped, tied his clothes in a bundle, waded a short distance back again, and dropped them in the sea.  Then he returned, took up the bag, and carried it up the sandy beach.  Opening it, he dressed himself in the complete set of clothes he had brought with him, put on the Spanish shoes and round turned-up hat, placed his money in his pocket; scraped a shallow hole in the sand, put the bag in it and covered it, and then started walking briskly along on the flat ground beyond the sand hills He kept on until he saw the first faint light in the sky; then he sat down among some bushes, until it was light enough for him to distinguish the features of the country.

Inland, the ground rose rapidly into hills ­in many places covered with wood ­and half an hour’s walking took him to one of these.  Looking back, he could see the Rock rising, as he judged, from twelve to fourteen miles away.  He soon found a place with some thick undergrowth and, entering this, lay down and was soon sound asleep.

When he woke it was already late in the afternoon.  He had brought with him, in the bag, some biscuits and hardboiled eggs; and of a portion of these he made a hearty meal.  Then he pushed up over the hill until, after an hour’s walking, he saw a road before him.  This was all he wanted, and he sat down and waited until it became dark.  A battalion of infantry passed along as he sat there, marching towards Gibraltar.  Two or three long lines of laden carts passed by, in the same direction.

He had consulted a map before starting, and knew that the distance to Malaga was more than twenty leagues; and that the first place of any importance was Estepona, about eight leagues from Gibraltar, and that before the siege a large proportion of the supplies of fruit and vegetables were brought to Gibraltar from this town.  Starting as soon as it became dark, he passed through Estepona at about ten o’clock; looked in at a wine shop, and sat down to a pint of wine and some bread; and then continued his journey until, taking it quietly, he was in sight of Marbella.

He slept in a grove of trees until daylight, and then entered the town, which was charmingly situated among orange groves.  Going into a fonda ­or tavern ­he called for breakfast.  When he had eaten this, he leisurely strolled down to the port and, taking his seat on a block of stone, on the pier, watched the boats.  As, while walking down from the fonda, he had passed several shops with oranges and lemons, it seemed to him that it would in some respects be better for him to get the fruit here, instead of going on to Malaga.

In the first place, the distance to return was but half that from Malaga; and in the second it would probably be easier to get out, from a quiet little port like this, than from a large town like Malaga.  The question which puzzled him was how was he to get his oranges on board.  Where could he reasonably be going to take them?

Presently, a sailor came up and began to chat with him.

“Are you wanting a boat, senor?”

“I have not made up my mind, yet,” he said.  “I suppose you are busy here, now?”

“No, the times are dull.  Usually we do a good deal of trade with Gibraltar but, at present, that is all stopped.  It is hard on us but, when we turn out the English hereticos, I hope we shall have better times than ever.  But who can say?  They have plenty of money, the English; and are ready to pay good prices for everything.”

“But I suppose you take things to our camp?”

The fisherman shook his head.

“They get their supplies direct from Malaga, by sea.  There are many carts go through here, of course; but the roads are heavy, and it is cheaper to send things by water.  If our camp had been on the seashore, instead of at San Roque, we might have taken fish and fruit to them; but it is a long way across and, of course, in small boats we cannot go round the great Rock, and run the risk of being shot at or taken prisoners.

“No; there is nothing for us to do here, now, but to carry what fish and fruit we do not want at Marbella across to Malaga; and we get poor prices, there, to what we used to get at Gibraltar; and no chance of turning an honest penny by smuggling away a few pounds of tobacco, as we come back.  There was as much profit, in that, as there was in the sale of the goods; but one had to be very sharp, for they were always suspicious of boats coming back from there, and used to search us so that you would think one could not bring so much as a cigar on shore.  But you know, there are ways of managing things.

“Are you thinking of going across to Malaga, senor?”

“Well, I have a little business there.  I want to see how the new wines are selling; and whether it will be better for me to sell mine, now, or to keep them in my cellars for a few months.  I am in no hurry.  Tomorrow is as good as today.  If there had been a boat going across, I might have taken a passage that way, instead of riding.”

“I don’t know, senor.  There was a man asking, an hour ago, if anyone was going.  He was wanting to take a few boxes of fruit across, but he did not care about hiring my boat for himself.  That, you see, was reasonable enough; but if the senor wished to go, too, it might be managed if you took the boat between you.  I would carry you cheaply, if you would be willing to wait for an hour or two; so that I could go round to the other fishermen, and get a few dozen fish from one and a few dozen from another, to sell for them over there.  That is the way we manage.”

“I could not very well go until the afternoon,” Bob said.

“If you do not go until the afternoon, senor, it would be as well not to start until evening.  The wind is very light, and we should have to row.  If you start in the afternoon, we should get to Malaga at two or three o’clock in the morning, when everyone was asleep; but if you were to start in the evening, we should be in in reasonable time, just as the people were coming into the markets.  That would suit us for the sale of our fish, and the man with his fruit.  The nights are warm and, with a cloak and an old sail to keep off the night dew, the voyage would be more pleasant than in the heat of the day.”

“That would do for me, very well,” Bob said.  “Nothing could be better.  What charge would you make, for taking me across and bringing me back, tomorrow?”

“At what time would you want to return, senor?”

“It would matter little.  I should be done with my business by noon, but I should be in no hurry.  I could wait until evening, if that would suit you better.”

“And we might bring other passengers back, and any cargo we might pick up?”

“Yes, so that you do not fill the boat so full that there would be no room for me to stretch my legs.”

“Would the senor think four dollars too much?  There will be my brother and myself, and it will be a long row.”

“It is dear,” Bob said, decidedly; “but I will give you three dollars and, if everything passes to my satisfaction, maybe I will make up the other dollar.”

“Agreed, senor.  I will see if I can find the man who was here, asking for a boat for his fruit.”

“I will come back in an hour, and see,” Bob said, getting up and walking leisurely away.

The fisherman was waiting for him.

“I can’t find the man, senor, though I have searched all through the town.  He must have gone off to his farm again.”

“That is bad.  How much did you reckon upon making from him?”

“I should have got another three dollars from him.”

“Well, I tell you what,” Bob said; “I have a good many friends, and people are always pleased with a present from the country.  A box of fruit from Marbella is always welcome, for their flavour is considered excellent.  It is well to throw a little fish, to catch a big one; and a present is like oil on the wheels of business.  How many boxes of fruit will your boat carry?  I suppose you could take twenty, and still have room to row?”

“Thirty, sir; that is the boat,” and he pointed to one moored against the quay.

She was about twenty feet long, with a mast carrying a good-sized sail.

“Very well, then.  I will hire the boat for myself.  I will give you six dollars, and another dollar for drink money, if all goes pleasantly.  You must be ready to come back, tomorrow evening; or the first thing next morning, if it should suit you to stay till then.  You can carry what fish you can get to Malaga, and may take in a return cargo if you can get one.  That will be extra profit for yourselves.  But you and your brother must agree to carry down the boxes of fruit, and put them on board here.  I am not going to pay porters for that.

“At what time will you start?”

“Shall we say six o’clock, senor?”

“That will suit me very well.  You can come up with me, now, and bring the fruit down, and put it on board; or I will be down here at five o’clock, and you can go up and get it, then.”

The man thought for a moment.

“I would rather do it now, senor, if it makes no difference to you.  Then we can have our evening meals at home with our families, and come straight down here, and start.”

“Very well; fetch your brother, and we will set about the matter at once; as I have to go out to my farm and make some arrangements, and tell them they may not see me again for three days.”

In two or three minutes the fisherman came back, with his brother.  Bob went with them to a trader in fruit, and bought twenty boxes of lemons and ten of oranges, and saw them carried down and put on board.  Then he handed a dollar to the boatman.

“Get a loaf of white bread, and a nice piece of cooked meat, and a couple of bottles of good wine, and put them on board.  We shall be hungry, before morning.  I will be here at a few minutes before six.”

Highly satisfied with the good fortune that had enabled him to get the fruit on board without the slightest difficulty, Bob returned into the town.  It was but eleven o’clock now so ­having had but a short sleep the night before, and no prospect of sleep the next night ­he walked a mile along the road by the sea, then turned off among the sand hills and slept, till four in the afternoon; after which he returned to Marbella, and partook of a hearty meal.

Having finished this he strolled out, and was not long in discovering a shop where arms were sold.  Here he bought a brace of long, heavy pistols, and two smaller ones; with powder and bullets, and also a long knife.  They were all made into a parcel together and, on leaving the shop, he bought a small bag.  Then he went a short distance out of the town again, carefully loaded the four pistols, and placed them and the knife in the bag.

As he went back, the thought struck him that the voyage might probably last longer than they expected and, buying a basket, he stored it with another piece of meat, three loaves, and two more bottles of wine, and gave it to a boy to carry down to the boat.

It was a few minutes before six when he got there.  The two sailors were standing by the boat, and a considerable pile of fish in the bow showed that they had been successful in getting a consignment from the other fishermen of the port.  They looked surprised at the second supply of provisions.

“Why, senor, we have got the things you ordered.”

“Yes, yes, I do not doubt that; but I have heard, before now, of headwinds springing up, and boats not being able to make their passage, and being blown off land; and I am not fond of fasting.  I daresay you won’t mind eating, tomorrow, anything that is not consumed by the time we reach port.”

“We will undertake that, senor,” the man said, laughing, highly satisfied at the liberality of their employer.

“Is there wind enough for the sail?” Bob asked, as he stepped into the stern of the boat.

“It is very light, senor, but I daresay it will help us a bit.  We shall get out the oars.”

“I will take the helm, if you sail,” Bob said.  “You can tell me which side to push it.  It will be an amusement, and keep me awake.”

The sun was just setting, as they started.  There was scarcely a breath of wind.  The light breeze that had been blowing, during the day, had dropped with the sun; and the evening breeze had not yet sprung up.  The two fishermen rowed, and the boat went slowly through the water; for the men knew that they had a long row before them, and were by no means inclined to exert themselves ­especially as they hoped that, in a short time, they would get wind enough to take them on their way, without the oars.

Bob chatted with them until it became dark.  As soon as he was perfectly sure that the boat could not be seen from the land, he quietly opened his bag, and changed the conversation.

“My men,” he said, “I wonder that you are content with earning small wages, here, when you could get a lot of money by making a trip, occasionally, round to Gibraltar with fruit.  It would be quite easy; for you could keep well out from the coast till it became dark, and then row in close under the Rock; and keep along round the Point, and into the town, without the least risk of being seen by any of our cruisers.  You talked about making money by smuggling in tobacco from there, but that is nothing to what you could get by taking fruit into Gibraltar.  These oranges cost a dollar and a half, a box; and they would fetch ten dollars a box, easily, there.  Indeed, I think they would fetch twenty dollars a box.  Why, that would give a profit, on the thirty boxes, of six or seven hundred dollars.  Just think of that!”

“Would they give such a price as that?” the men said, in surprise.

“They would.  They are suffering from want of fresh meat, and there is illness among them; and oranges and lemons are the things to cure them.  It is all very well for men to suffer, but no one wants women and children to do so; and it would be the act of good Christians to relieve them, besides making as much money, in one little short trip, as you would make in a year’s work.”

“That is true,” the men said, “but we might be sunk by the guns, going there; and we should certainly be hung, when we got back, if they found out where we had been.”

“Why should they find out?” Bob asked.  “You would put out directly it got dark, and row round close under the Rock, and then make out to sea; and in the morning you would be somewhere off Marbella, but eight or ten miles out, with your fishing nets down; and who is to know that you have been to Gibraltar?”

The men were silent.  The prospect certainly seemed a tempting one.  Bob allowed them to turn it over in their minds for a few minutes, and then spoke again.

“Now, my men, I will speak to you frankly.  It is just this business that I am bent upon, now.  I have come out from Gibraltar to do a little trade in fruit.  It is sad to see women and children suffering; and there is, as I told you, lots of money to be made out of it.  Now, I will make you a fair offer.  You put the boat’s head round, now, and sail for Gibraltar.  If the wind helps us a bit, we shall be off the Rock by daylight.  When we get there, I will give you a hundred dollars, apiece.”

“It is too much risk,” one of the men said, after a long pause.

“There is no risk at all,” Bob said, firmly.  “You will get in there tomorrow, and you can start again, as soon as it becomes dark; and in the morning you will be able to sail into Marbella, and who is to know that you haven’t been across to Malaga, as you intended?

“I tell you what, I will give you another fifty dollars for your fish; or you can sell them there, yourselves ­they will fetch you quite that.”

The men still hesitated, and spoke together in a low voice.

“Look here, men,” Bob said, as he took the two heavy pistols from his bag, “I have come out from the Rock to do this, and I am going to do it.  The question is, ’Which do you choose ­to earn two hundred and fifty dollars for a couple of days’ work, or to be shot and thrown overboard?’ This boat is going there, whether you go in her or not.  I don’t want to hurt you ­I would rather pay the two hundred and fifty dollars ­but that fruit may save the lives of many women, and little children, and I am bound to do it.

“You can make another trip or not, just as you please.  Now, I think you will be very foolish, if you don’t agree; for you will make three times as much as I offer you, every thirty boxes of fruit that you can take in there; but the boat has got to go there now, and you have got to take your choice whether you go in her, or not.”

“How do we know that you will pay us the money, when we get there?” one of the Spaniards asked.

Bob put his hand into his pocket.

“There,” he said.  “There are twenty gold pieces, that is, a hundred dollars.  That is a proof I mean what I say.  Put them into your pockets.  You shall have the rest, when you get there.  But mind, no nonsense; no attempts at treachery.  If I see the smallest sign of that, I will shoot you down without hesitation.

“Now, row, and I’ll put her head round.”

The men said a few words in an undertone to each other.

“You guarantee that no harm shall come to us at Gibraltar, and that we shall be allowed to leave again?”

“Yes, I promise you that, faithfully.

“Now, you have got to row a good bit harder than you have been rowing, up till now.  We must be past Fort Santa Barbara before daylight.”

The boat’s head was round, by this time, and the men began to row steadily.  At present, they hardly knew whether they were satisfied, or not.  Two hundred and fifty dollars was, to them, an enormous sum; but the risk was great.  It was not that they feared that any suspicion would fall upon them, on their return.  They had often smuggled tobacco from Gibraltar, and had no high opinion of the acuteness of the authorities.  What really alarmed them was the fear of being sunk, either by the Spanish or British guns.  However, they saw that, for the present at any rate, they had no option but to obey the orders of a passenger possessed of such powerful arguments as those he held in his hands.