As soon as he found a secluded spot, he stripped off the clothes he wore and put on those of a Spanish sailor; and then, placing the others in the bag, buried it in the sandy soil ­taking particular note of its position, in regard to trees and surrounding objects, so as to be able to find it again.  Then he turned to the right, and skirted the town till he came down to the seashore again; and then strolled quietly back to the quays.  In passing by the ships at anchor he had noticed the names of the four Spaniards and, after wandering about for a short time, he entered a wine shop and seated himself at a table, near one at which three Spanish sailors sat drinking.

From their talk, he learned that the British were shortly to be turned out of Tangiers; that the town was to be given up to the Spaniards; and that the British consul had, the day before, been taken to Sallee, where the emperor now was.  The English in the town had not yet been made prisoners, but it was believed that they would be seized and handed over to the Spaniards, without delay.

Having obtained this information, Bob saw that ­at any rate, for the present ­he might, if he chose, appear in his own character; and regretted that he had buried his clothes, before knowing how matters stood.  However, there was no help for it but to go back again, to the place where he had hidden them.  This he did and, having put on his own clothes, he went straight to the consulate, which was a large house facing the port.  A clerk was sitting in the office.

“I understand Mr. Logie is away,” Bob said.

The clerk looked surprised, for he knew the whole of the small body of British residents well, and he could not understand how Bob could have arrived.

“I am the bearer of letters to him, from Governor Eliott,” Bob said.  “I came across by boat, and landed two hours ago; but I was in disguise, not knowing how matters stood here, and have but now ascertained that, so far, the English are not prisoners.”

“Not at present,” the clerk said.  “But will you come into the house, sir?  We may be disturbed here.”

“In the first place,” Bob asked, when they were seated in an inner room, “when do you expect Mr. Logie back, and what is the real situation?  My orders are, if I cannot see Mr. Logie himself, that I am to obtain as accurate a statement as possible as to how matters are going on here; as it is important that the governor should be able to inform vessels sailing from Gibraltar, east, whether they can or can not put safely into the Moorish ports.  Of course, we know that vessels have been several times taken by the Spaniards, while at anchor close to the towns; but they might risk that, if there were no danger from the Moors, themselves.  But if the reports last sent by Mr. Logie are confirmed, the Moors would be openly at war with us; and would, themselves, seize and make prizes of vessels anchoring.  The danger would, of course, be vastly greater than that of merely running the risk of capture, if a Spanish vessel of war happened to come into a port where they were at anchor.  Of course, I am merely expressing the views of the governor.”

“I am sorry to say,” the clerk said, “that there is no doubt the Moors are about to join the Spaniards in formal alliance against us.  Englishmen are liable to insult as they go through the street.  This, however, would not go for much, by itself; but last week a number of soldiers rushed into the office, seized Mr. Logie, violently assaulted him, spat upon him, and otherwise insulted him ­acting, as they said, by the express order of the emperor, himself.  He is now practically a prisoner, having been taken under an escort to Sallee and, at any moment, the whole of the British colony here may be seized, and thrown into prison; and if you know what Moorish prisons are, you would know that that would mean death to most of them ­certainly, I should say, to all the ladies.”

“But can they not leave, in neutral vessels?”

“No.  The strictest orders have been issued against any Englishman leaving; they are, in fact, so far prisoners, although nominally at liberty to move about the town.

“I believe that the greater part of the Moors regret, extremely, the course their emperor has taken.  Many have come in here, after dark, to assure Mr. Logie how deeply averse they were to this course; for that the sympathies of the population, in general, were naturally with the English in their struggle against the Spaniards who had, for all time, been the deadly foe of the Moors.  Unfortunately, the emperor has supreme power, and anyone who ventured to murmur against his will would have his head stuck up over a gate, in no time; so that the sympathy of the population does not count for much.”

“How many English are there, altogether?”

“A hundred and four.  We made up the list last week.  Of course that includes men, women, and children.  There are some ten merchants, most of whom have one or two clerks.  The rest of the men are small traders, and shopkeepers.  Some of them make their living by supplying ships that put in here with necessaries.  A few, at ordinary times, trade with the Rock in livestock.  Half a dozen or so keep stores, where they sell English goods to the natives.”

“I have a mission to discharge to a Mrs. Colomb, or at least to a young lady living with her.”

“Mrs. Colomb, I regret to say, died three weeks ago,” the clerk said.  “Miss Harcourt ­who is, I suppose, the young lady you mean ­is now, with Mrs. Colomb’s servant, staying here.  Mr. Logie had placed them in lodgings in the house of a Moorish trader, just outside the town; but the young lady could not remain there, alone, after Mrs. Colomb’s death.  I will ring the bell, and tell the servant to inform her that you are here.”

Two minutes later, Bob was shown into a large sitting room on the first floor, with a verandah overlooking the sea.

“Oh, Bob Repton, I am glad to see you!” Amy Harcourt exclaimed, coming forward impulsively, with both hands held out.  “It is dreadfully lonely here.  Mr. Logie is away, and poor Mrs. Colomb is dead and, as for Mrs. Williams, she does nothing but cry, and say we are all going to be shut up, and starved, in a Moorish prison.

“But first, how are father and mother, and everyone at the Rock?”

“They are all quite well, Amy; though your mother has been in a great state of anxiety about you, since she got your letter saying how ill Mrs. Colomb was.  Here is a letter she has given me, for you.”

He handed the girl the letter, and went out on to the verandah while she read it.

“Mamma says I am to act upon Mr. Logie’s advice; and that, if by any means he should not be in a position to advise me, I am to take your advice, if Mrs. Colomb is dead.”

“I don’t think I am in a position to give you advice, Amy.  What did Mr. Logie say about the state of affairs, before he went away?”

“He seemed to think things were going on very badly.  You know the soldiers rushed in here and assaulted him, one day last week.  They said they had orders from the emperor to do so; and Mr. Logie said they certainly would not have dared to molest the British consul, if it hadn’t been by the emperor’s orders.  He was talking to me about it, the day before they took him away to Sallee; and he said he would give anything, if he could get me away to the Rock, for that the position here was very precarious; and that the emperor might, at any moment, order all the English to be thrown into prison, and I know that the servants expect we shall all be killed, by the populace.

“They have frightened Mrs. Williams nearly out of her senses.  I never saw such a foolish woman.  She does nothing but cry.  She is the wife, you know, of Captain Colomb’s soldier servant.

“Well, what do you advise, Bob?”

“I am sure I don’t know what to advise, Amy.  This seems a regular fix, doesn’t it?”

“But you are just as badly off as I am,” she said.  “If they seize everyone else, of course they will seize you, now you are here.”

“Oh, I could get away, easily enough,” Bob said.  “I should dress myself up as a Spanish sailor.  I have got the clothes here, and should boldly go on board one of the Spanish ships, and take passage across to any port they are going to; and then manage to work round into Gibraltar, again.  But of course, you can’t do that.”

“I couldn’t go as a Spanish sailor, of course,” the girl said, “but I might dress up and go, somehow.  Anything would be better than waiting here, and then being thrown into one of their dreadful prisons.  They say they are awful places.

“Do take me, Bob Repton.  I do so want to get back to father and mother again, and I am quite well and strong now ­as well as ever I was.”

Bob looked at the girl, with a puzzled expression of face.  He had promised her mother to do the best thing he could for her.  The question was, ‘What was the best thing?’ It certainly seemed that the position here was a very perilous one.  If he left her here, and harm befell her, what would her parents say to him?  But, on the other hand, how on earth was he to get her away?

“I tell you what, Amy,” he said, after a time.  “Who were the ladies Mrs. Colomb saw most of?  I suppose she knew some of the people here?”

“Oh, yes, she knew several; but she was most intimate with Mrs. Hamber.  She is the wife of one of the principal merchants, and is very kind.  She offered to take me in, when Mrs. Colomb died; but her husband lives out of the town, and Mr. Logie had promised Mrs. Colomb that he would look after me, until he could send me across ­besides, Mrs. Hamber’s child is very ill, with fever ­and so he brought me here.”

“Well, I will go and consult her,” Bob said.  “I daresay the clerk downstairs will send a man with me, to show me her house.”

Mrs. Hamber listened to Bob’s account of his mission; asking a question now and again, in a straightforward and decided way, which gave Bob an idea that she was a resolute sort of woman, with plenty of common sense.

“Well, Mr. Repton,” she said, when he had finished, “it is a difficult matter for anyone but the girl’s mother to form an opinion upon.  I remember hearing, from Mrs. Colomb, about your going out and bringing in fruit when the scurvy was so bad, two months ago.  She had received the news, no doubt, from her husband and, therefore, it seems to me that you must be a very capable young gentleman, with plenty of courage and coolness.  The fact that Mrs. Harcourt gave you such a message as she did, regarding her daughter, shows that she has every confidence in you.  If the girl were a year or two older, I should say it would be quite out of the question for her to attempt to make her way back to Gibraltar, under your protection; but as she is still a mere child, and as you possess her mother’s confidence, I don’t see that this matters so much.

“If you are both taken prisoners, there is no reason for supposing that she would not be treated honourably by the Spaniards.  They must have taken numbers of women, in the vessels they have captured lately, and I suppose the girl would be placed with them.  She would, at any rate, be far better off in a Spanish prison than in a Moorish one.  Besides, I really consider that all our lives are in danger, here.  After the assault on Mr. Logie, it is just as likely the emperor may order us all to be massacred, as thrown into prison; or he might sell us as slaves, as they do at Algiers.  There is no saying.  I think that, if I were in the position of the girl’s mother at Gibraltar, I should say that it was better for her to run the risk of capture, with you; than to remain here, where there is no saying what may happen ­she having every confidence in your honour, young gentleman.”

“I thank you, Mrs. Hamber.  I have no idea, at present, what plan I shall form.  I may not see any possible way of getting out but, if I do, we will certainly attempt it.  Major Harcourt belongs to the same regiment as my brother-in-law, and his wife and my sister are great friends; which is why, I suppose, she has confidence in me.  I have known Amy, now, for a year and a half; and she is very often at my sister’s.  I will take care of her just the same as if she were a young sister of my own.  I don’t see how I could go back and tell her mother that I left her here, with things in the state they are.  I only hope they may not turn out so badly as you fear; and that, at the worst, the Moors will only hand you over as prisoners to the Spaniards.”

Bob went back to the consulate, and told Amy the result of his conversation with Mrs. Hamber.

“I consider that has taken the responsibility off my shoulders, Amy.  You referred me to Mrs. Hamber as the lady you knew best here.  She is of opinion that, if she were your mother, she would advise your trying to get away with me.  So, now, we have only to decide how it is to be done ­that is, if you still wish to try.”

“Certainly I do,” the girl said.  “Anything is better than waiting here; expecting the Moors to rush in, as they did the other day, and carry one off to prison, or kill one.

“Mr. Parrot ­that is the gentleman you saw downstairs ­said that you would stay here, and ordered a room to be prepared for you; and dinner is ready.  I am sure you must be terribly hungry.”

Bob remembered, now, that he had had nothing to eat ­save some biscuits on board the boat, and a piece of bread at the wine shop ­since he left Gibraltar, and that he really was desperately hungry.  Amy had already had her dinner; but she sat by him, and they talked about their friends at the Rock.

“Now,” he said, when he had finished, “let us have a regular council of war.  It was my intention to get a passage to Malaga, if I could, because I know something of the road back from there; but I could not do that, with you.”

“Why not, Bob?”

“Because the voyage is too long.  Someone would be certain to speak to you before you got across and, as you can’t talk Spanish, the cat would be out of the bag, directly.  If possible, we must manage to cross to Tarifa.  It is only a few hours across to there, even if we go in an open boat and, now that the Spaniards are friends with the Moors, there ought to be no difficulty in getting a passage across there, or to Algeciras.

“Of course, you can’t go as you are,” he said, looking at her rather ruefully.

“No, of course not,” she said.  “I am not so silly as that.  I should think I had better dress up like a boy, Bob.”

“That would be a great deal the best plan, if you would not mind it,” Bob said, greatly relieved that the suggestion came from her.  “It is the only thing that I can think of.  There didn’t seem any story one could invent, to account for a Spanish girl being over here; but a ship’s boy will be natural enough.  If asked questions, of course, our story will be that we had been left behind here.  There could be lots of reasons for that.  Either we might have been on shore, and the vessel gone on without us; or you might have been sent ashore ill, and I might have been left to nurse you.  That wouldn’t be a bad story.

“What we must do, when we get to the other side, must depend upon where we land.  I mean, whether we try to get straight in by boat, or to wait about until a chance comes.  Once over there, you will have to pretend to be deaf and dumb; and then you can dress up as a Spanish girl ­of course, a peasant ­which will be much more pleasant than going about as a boy, and better in lots of ways.  So if I were you, I should take a bundle of things with me, so that we should have nothing to buy there.  It is all very well buying disguises for myself, but I could never go into a shop to ask for all sorts of girls’ clothes.”

Amy went off in a fit of laughter, at the thought of Bob having to purchase feminine garments.

“It is all very well to laugh,” Bob said.  “These are the sort of little things that are so difficult to work in.  It is easy enough to make a general plan, but the difficulty is to get everything to fit in.

“I will have a talk with Mr. Parrot, in the morning, about the boats.  He will know what boats have been trading with the Rock, and what men to trust.”

“You can talk to him now, if you like,” the girl said.  “He and Mr. Logie’s other clerk have the top storey of the house.”

“Oh, then I will go up and see him, at once; the sooner it is arranged, the better.  If things are in the state that everyone says, you might all be seized and imprisoned, any day.”

Bob went up at once to Mr. Parrot’s rooms, and had a long talk with him.  The clerk quite agreed that anything would be better than for a young girl to be shut up in a Moorish prison, but he did not see how it was possible for them to find their way across to Gibraltar.

“Many of our fishermen are most courageous fellows, and have run great risks in taking letters from Mr. Logie across to Gibraltar.  I do not suppose that the blockade is very much more strict than it was; and indeed, the fact that you got through shows that, with good luck, the thing is possible enough.  But that is not the difficulty.  The strictest order has been issued that no boat is to take Englishmen across to the Rock, or is to cross the Straits on any pretence, whatever; and that anyone evading this law will be executed, and his goods forfeited to the state.  That is how it is Mr. Logie has been able to send no letters, for the last month; and why none of the merchants, here, have tried to get across to the Rock.  No bribe would be sufficient to tempt the boatmen.  It would mean not only death to themselves, if they ever returned; but the vengeance of the authorities would fall on their relations, here.  I am afraid that there is nothing to be done, that way, at all.”

“There are the three men who brought me across, this morning,” Bob said.  “They might be bribed to take us back.  The governor authorized me to offer a hundred pounds.  I own that I don’t like their looks.”

“You would have some difficulty in finding them, to begin with,” Mr. Parrot said; “and I don’t think a hundred pounds would be likely to tempt them to run the risk.”

“I would not mind giving them two hundred more,” Bob said.  “I have got that money, of my own, at Gibraltar; and I am sure, if it were necessary, Major Harcourt would gladly pay as much more to get his daughter back.”

“Three hundred would be ample.  If they would not run the risk for a hundred apiece, nothing would tempt them.  I should say your best plan would be to go down, early tomorrow, and see if you can find one of them.  They are likely to be loitering about by the quays, as they have their boat there.

“The question is, are they to be trusted?  They know that you have been sent out by the governor, and that you are here on some special business; and they may very well think that the Spaniards will give a higher reward, for you, than you can give to be taken back.  They will, by this time, know of the order against boats crossing; and might betray you to the Moors.  If you were going by yourself, of course, you could take all sorts of risks; but with this young lady under your protection, it would be different.”

“Yes, I see that, Mr. Parrot.  Rather than run any risk, I should prefer being put ashore at any Spanish port, by one of the ships in the harbour.  If you give me the name of any Spanish merchantman who was here, say, a fortnight ago; my story that we were left behind, owing to one of us being ill, would be so simple that there need be no suspicion, whatever, excited.  Tarifa or Algeciras would, of course, be the best places, as we should only be on board a few hours; and Miss Harcourt could very well pretend to be still ill and weak, and could lie down in a corner, and I could cover her up with a blanket till we got there.

“Once across, I don’t so much mind.  Even if we were detected, we should simply be two fugitives from here, trying to make our way to Gibraltar; and I don’t think there would be any question of my being a spy.  We should probably be sent to wherever they keep the English prisoners they have taken in ships; and there would be nothing very dreadful in that, even for her.  We should probably be exchanged, before long.  There have been several batches sent in to the Rock, in exchange for prisoners taken in prizes brought in by privateers.”

“Well, I really think that that would be the best way, Mr. Repton.  As you say, there will be nothing very dreadful in detention for a while, with the Spaniards; while there is no saying what may happen here.  If you like, I will send one of the consulate servants out, the first thing in the morning, to inquire what ports the Spanish craft are bound for, and when they are likely to sail.  They seldom stop more than two or three days, here.  Most of them are taking livestock across for the use of the Spanish army and, though Algeciras would be an awkward place for you to land at because, if detected there, you would be more likely to be treated as a spy; still, in a busy place like that, no one would notice a couple of young sailors, and it would be no great distance for you to walk over to Tarifa, or any of the villages on the Straits.

“But how do you propose to get in from there?  That is what seems to me the great difficulty.”

“Well, I got in before,” Bob said, “and do not think that there ought to be much difficulty in getting hold of a boat.  If I did, I should sail round the Point and, keeping well outside the line of cruisers, come down on the coast the other side of Gibraltar; and so work along at night, just as I did before.  If I found it absolutely impossible to get a boat, of course, I could not ­with the girl with me ­try to swim across from the head of the bay to the Rock; which is what I should have done, had I been alone.  So I should then go to the authorities and give myself up; and say that, being afraid that the Moors intend to massacre all the English at Tangiers, I had come across with this young lady, who is the daughter of an officer of the garrison, to put her into Spanish hands; knowing that there she would receive honourable treatment, till she could be passed in at the next exchange of prisoners.”

“I think that would be your very best course to pursue, unless you find everything turn out just as you would wish, Mr. Repton.”

When Bob came down in the morning, he at once went into the office below; and Mr. Parrot told him that one of the Spanish craft would start for Algeciras, at noon.

“Then I must ask you to send one of the servants out, to buy some clothes such as are worn by a Spanish sailor boy, Mr. Parrot.  I have my own suit upstairs, and will go off and arrange for a passage across, directly after breakfast.”

“I will see to it,” Mr. Parrot said.  “The ship’s decks will be crowded up with cattle.  She is a small craft, and I hear she will take as many as can be packed on her deck.  She is alongside now, taking them in.  There is not much likelihood of any attention, whatever, being paid to you and your companion.”

Amy turned a little pale, when Bob told her that the attempt was to be made at once; but she said bravely: 

“I am glad there is to be no waiting.  I do so long to be out of this town.  I daresay I shall be a little nervous at first, but I shall try not to show it; and I sha’n’t be really frightened, for I know that you will take care of me.”

As soon as breakfast was over, Bob changed his things and went down to the quay.  He stopped at the vessel taking cattle on board.  She was a polacre brig, of about a hundred and fifty tons.  The captain was smoking a cigar, aft; while the mate was seeing to the storing of the cattle.  Bob went on board, and told his story to the captain.

“I was left behind in charge of a cabin boy from the Esmeralda, a fortnight ago.  The boy had fever, and the captain thought it might be infectious, and put him ashore; but he soon got well.  We want to be taken across, as our friends live not many miles from Tarifa.  We will pay a dollar, apiece, for our passage.”

The captain nodded.

“Be on board by noon; we shall not be a minute later.”

Bob went ashore, and told Amy that everything was arranged, without the slightest difficulty.  He then went down to inspect the clothes.

“They will do very well,” he said, “except that they are a great deal cleaner than anything ever seen on a Spanish sailor.  Those canvas trousers will never do, as they are.”

He accordingly took some ashes, and rubbed them well into the canvas; got some grease from the kitchen, and poured two or three large patches over the trousers.

“That is more like it,” he said.  “The shirt will do well enough, but there must be a patch or two of grease upon the jacket, and some smears of dirt, of some kind.”

When he had done them to his satisfaction, he took them upstairs.

“What horrid, dirty looking things!” Amy exclaimed, in disgust.

“They are clean enough inside, child.  They are quite new; but I have been dirtying them, outside, to make them look natural.

“You must be dressed by half past eleven, and you can tuck your hair up under that red nightcap; but you must manage to dirty your face, neck, and hands.  You really ought to have some brown stain, but I don’t suppose it is to be got.  I will speak to Mr. Parrot.”

“There is no stain, that I know of,” Mr. Parrot said; “but I know Mr. Logie paints a little.  I think you will find a box of colours, upstairs.  If you mix some Vandyke brown in water, and paint her with it, and let it dry on, I should think it would do very well; though of course, it wouldn’t stand washing.”

Bob found the paintbox, and soon mixed some paint.  At half past eleven Amy came into the room, laughing a little shyly.

“That will do very well,” Bob said, encouragingly, “except that you are a great deal too fair and clean.

“Look here, I have been mixing some paint.  I think a wash of that will make all the difference.  Now, sit down while I colour you.

“That will do capitally!” he said, when he finished.  “I think, when it dries, it will be just about the right shade for a Spanish sailor boy.

“Have you got your bundle?

“That is right.  Now here is my bag, and a couple of black Moorish blankets.  I will bring Mr. Parrot up, to say goodbye.

“Have you told your servant?”

“No, I said nothing to her about it.  She would make such a terrible fuss, there would be no getting away from her.  We must ask Mr. Parrot to tell her, after the vessel has set sail.”

Mr. Parrot pronounced the disguise excellent, and said that he should not have the slightest suspicion that she was anything but what she seemed to be.  Amy felt very shy, as she sallied out with Bob; but she gained courage as she saw that no one noticed her.

When they arrived at the brig, the cattle were nearly all on board.  Bob led the way across the gangway, and went up on to the fo’castle.  There he laid one of the blankets down against a stanchion; wrapped Amy in the other, so that her face was almost hidden; and told her to sit down and close her eyes, as if weak or asleep.  Then he took up his post beside her.

In a quarter of an hour the last bullock was on board.  The gangway was at once hauled in, the hawsers thrown off, and the sails let drop and, in another minute, the vessel was gliding away from the wharf.  The wind was nearly due west, and the sheets were hauled in as she was headed across the Straits.  It was half an hour before the sailors’ work was all done.  Several of them came up on to the fo’castle and began twisting cigarettes, and one at once entered into conversation with Bob.

“Is the boy ill?” he said.

“Yes, he has been ill, but is better now.  It would have been better if he could have stopped a few days longer, but he was pining to get home.  He won’t have far to go when we get to Algeciras and, no doubt, I shall be able to get him a lift in some cart that will be bringing provisions to the camp.”

The talk at once turned on the siege, the sailors expressing their certainty that the Rock would soon be taken.  Bob had moved away from Amy, as if to allow her to sleep, undisturbed by the conversation.

“There is a brig running down the Straits, at a good speed,” one of the sailors said, when they were half way across.  “It is a nice breeze for her.”

Bob looked at the craft.  She was about a mile away, and by the course they were steering ­almost at right angles ­would come very near to them.  There was something familiar in her appearance, and he looked at her intently, examining every sail and shroud.  Then doubt became certainty, as his eye fell upon a small patch in one of the cloths of the topgallant sail.

It was the Antelope.  One of the Spanish shot had passed through the topgallant sail and ­as that was the only injury that sail had received ­the bit had been cut out, and a fresh one put in, before she sailed again from Gibraltar.  She was flying Spanish colours.

His heart beat fast.  Would she overhaul them, or pass without taking notice of them ­seeing that the polacre was a small one, and not likely to be a valuable prize?

The vessels approached each other quickly.  The course the Antelope was taking would carry her some length or two behind the Spaniard.  Bob hesitated whether to hail her, as she came along.  If his hail was not heard he would, of course, be detected, and his plans entirely spoilt; and with the wind blowing straight across, and he in the bow, it would be by no means certain that his hail would be distinguished.  Suddenly, to his delight, when the brig was within a hundred yards of the polacre he saw her head come up, while the crew began to haul upon the sheets.

An exclamation of surprise and alarm broke from the Spaniards as, in another minute, the Antelope was running parallel with them, a cable’s length to windward.  Then the portholes were opened, and eight guns run out.  The Spanish flag was run down and the British hoisted to the peak; and a summons to strike their flag shouted to the Spaniards.  As the latter carried only four small guns, resistance was out of the question.  The Spanish flag was lowered and, in obedience to the gesticulations, rather than the words, of an officer on board the English brig, the halliards were thrown off, and the sails came down with a run.

The Spanish sailors were frantic with rage, swearing by all the saints in the calendar.  Bob had moved, at once, across to Amy.

“Lie still, Amy.  We are going to be captured by an English ship.  It is the same privateer that I was in before.  Don’t make any sign, until they come on board.  In the fury that these Spaniards are in, they might stick their knives into us, if they knew we were English.”

The brig had been thrown up into the wind as soon as the polacre’s sails had been lowered and, in three minutes, a boat came alongside.  Then Joe Lockett, followed by half a dozen sailors armed with pistol and cutlass, scrambled on board.

“Now, follow me, Amy,” and, descending the ladder, Bob made his way along the narrow gangway between the lines of cattle, and then mounted to the poop.

“Well, Joe, how are you?”

The first mate of the Antelope started back, in astonishment.

“Why, Bob Repton!” he exclaimed.  “What on earth are you doing here, masquerading as a Spanish sailor?”

“I am trying to get across to Gibraltar,” he said.

“Why, is this fellow bound for Gibraltar?  In that case we have not got a prize, as we fancied.”

“She is a fair prize, Joe; she is bound for Algeciras.  I was going to make my way in from there, as best I could.”

“That is all right then.  What has she got on board?”

“Nothing beyond these cattle, and some vegetables, I expect; but they are worth a lot of money, on the Rock.”

“Well, you will be able to tell us all about things, Bob.  I will hail the captain to send Crofts on board, with a dozen men to take charge, here; and then I will take you on board.”

“I have a friend here,” Bob said, turning to Amy, who was standing timidly behind him, “so you must take him with me.”

“All right!” Joe said, carelessly.

In five minutes, Bob stood again on the deck of the Antelope, and a hearty greeting was exchanged between him and Captain Lockett.

“Before I tell you anything, Captain, which cabin am I to have?  I will tell you why, afterwards.  I suppose it will be my old one?”

“Yes; that is our one spare cabin, Bob.  But I don’t know why you are in such a hurry about it.”

“I will tell you presently,” Bob laughed, and led the way below.

“There, Amy,” he said, “you can go in there, and put on your own things again.  I thought it would be more comfortable, for you, for them not to know it until you are properly dressed, in your own clothes.  You have brought a frock, of course?”

“Yes; I thought I had better bring one, in case we should be made prisoners.”

“That is all right.  When you are dressed, come upon deck.  I will explain all about it, before you appear.”

Bob, as briefly as possible, told his story to Captain Lockett and Joe; who were much amused to find that Bob’s friend was a young lady.

“You are coming out in quite a new light, Bob, as a squire of dames.  But I won’t laugh at you, now; I want to hear the last news.  I overhauled that craft, not so much to capture her, as to get the last news.  There were reports, before I started, that the Moors were joining the Spaniards, and that their ports were closed to us; and what you say confirms that.  That was one of the points I wanted to know, as I could not tell whether I could run in there safely, were I chased.  Now, as to getting into the Rock, are their cruisers active, at present?”

“Well, there are lots of them about.  I think your best plan will be to run in close to the Point, and hold on as if you were going into Algeciras.  In that way, they won’t suspect you.  Then, when you get right up the bay, haul across to the town.  The wind is in your favour, because you will have to tack to work up the bay and, if you make pretty long tacks, they won’t suspect you, when you start across, until you have got pretty well away and, with this breeze, there will be no chance of their catching you before you are under our guns.”

“That seems hopeful enough.  At any rate, we will try it.  I will send six more men on board the polacre.  They will want to be handy with her sails.  I will go myself, and give Crofts orders.  He had better keep ahead of us for, if we are chased by their gunboats, we can protect him.”

Just as sail was again got up, and the two vessels were under way, Amy Harcourt came on deck; and was soon laughing and chatting merrily with the captain.  At four in the afternoon they rounded the Point, the polacre a few hundred yards ahead, and both flying Spanish colours.  There were several Spanish cruisers, and some gunboats, outside them; but these paid no attention to their movements, and both beat up the bay, keeping close into the Spanish shore, but holding somewhat farther out, at each tack.

“Now,” Captain Lockett, said when they were within half a mile of Algeciras, “we will run out this tack.  There are two gunboats in our way, I see, but we must take our chance of them.

“Go and wave a handkerchief from the bow, Joe.  Mr. Crofts will be on the lookout for the signal.”

The two vessels held away on the port tack.  As the polacre approached the gunboats, a sudden bustle was observed on board them.

“They begin to smell a rat,” Captain Lockett said.

“Hoist the topgallant sails,” for the brig had been under easy sail, to enable her to hold her place with the polacre.

The men were already at quarters, and the ports were opened and the guns run out.  Just as the gunboat nearest the polacre ­finding the hail, for her to bring to, unheeded ­fired a shot into her, the brig’s head paid off, and she poured a broadside into the two gunboats.  One of them was struck amidships.  For a minute there was great confusion on board, and then she made for her companion, evidently in a sinking condition.

Several shots were now fired from the forts but, though they fell near, the brig was uninjured.  The second gunboat did not venture to attack so formidable an opponent and, half an hour later, the Antelope and her prize dropped anchor off the Mole.

Bob had already run down and put on his usual clothes, and he and Amy were at once rowed ashore, and made their way to Major Harcourt’s quarters.  The delight of Amy’s father and mother, as she rushed into the room, was extreme.  Bob did not enter with her, but left her to tell her own story; and proceeded straight to the governor’s, to whom he reported the state of affairs at Tangier.

“It is bad news,” the governor said.  “However, I am extremely obliged to you, for the valuable service that you have rendered and, as I had the pleasure of before doing, when you brought in the oranges, I shall place your name in the orders of the day for having, as a volunteer, rendered signal service by carrying despatches, at great risk, across to the Barbary coast.”

Bob then returned home.  Captain Lockett had already been to the house, and informed the O’Hallorans of his arrival.

“There you see, Carrie,” Bob said, after his sister’s first greetings were over; “there was nothing to have been so terribly alarmed about.”

“It isn’t because you got through it safely, Bob, that there was no danger,” his sister replied.  “It was a very foolish thing to do, and nothing will change my opinion as to that.

“Captain Lockett tells me you brought Amy Harcourt back with you, dressed up as a boy.  I never heard of such a thing, Bob!  The idea of a boy like you ­not eighteen yet ­taking charge, in that way, of a young girl!”

“Well, there was nothing else to do, Carrie, that I could see.  I went to Mrs. Hamber, who was Mrs. Colomb’s most intimate friend, and asked her opinion as to what I had better do; and she advised me to get Amy away, if I possibly could do so.  I can’t see what difference it makes, whether it is a boy or a girl.  It seems to me that people are always so stupid about that sort of thing.”

Carrie laughed.

“Well, never mind, Bob.  Amy Harcourt is a very nice girl.  A little too boyish, perhaps; but I suppose that is natural, being brought up in the regiment.  I am very glad that you have brought her back again, and it will be an immense relief to her father and mother.  Her mother has been here three or four times, during these two days you have been away; and I am in no way surprised at her anxiety.  They will be in here this evening, certainly, to thank you.”

“Very well; then I shall be round smoking a cigar, with the doctor,” Bob said.  “I am very glad to have been of use to them, and to have got Amy back again; but I don’t want to be thanked, and you tell them so.  I hate being made a fuss about.”

And so, beyond a warm grasp of the hand, on the part of Major Harcourt; and two or three words of hearty thanks, on that of his wife, the next time they met; Bob escaped any expression of gratitude.  But the occurrence drew the two families together more closely, and Amy often came round with her father and mother, in the evening; and there were many little confidential talks between Carrie and Mrs. Harcourt.

It was some time before the anxiety as to the fate of the English inhabitants, at Tangier, was allayed.  They were, at the beginning of December, forced to remove to Marteen, a few miles from Tetuan ­abandoning their houses and all their property, which was estimated at the value of sixty thousand pounds ­and, three days afterwards, were handed over as prisoners to the Spaniards.  They were then put on board a ship, and taken to Algeciras ­where they were kept, for nearly a month, prisoners on board ship ­but were, on the 11th of January, 1781, sent across to Gibraltar.

The next five months passed slowly and heavily.  Occasionally, privateers and other craft ran through the blockade of the Spanish cruisers, and succeeded in getting into port.  Some of these brought wine and sugar ­of both of which the garrison were extremely short ­and occasionally a few head of cattle and other provisions.  All of these were sold by public auction, the governor considering that to be the fairest way of disposing of them.

On the 12th of April another great convoy, under Admiral Darby, entered the port.  It consisted of about a hundred merchantmen, under the protection of a powerful fleet.  The joy of the garrison and inhabitants was intense although, among the latter, this was mingled with a certain feeling of uneasiness.  Deserters had at various times brought in reports that, should Gibraltar be again relieved, it was the purpose of the Spaniards to bombard the town.  Hopes were entertained that so wanton an act of cruelty would not be carried out, for the entire destruction of the town would not advance, in the smallest degree, the progress of the siege.

At a quarter to eleven, just as the van of the convoy came to an anchor off the New Mole, Fort San Philip opened fire upon the town and, at the signal, the whole of the batteries in the forts and lines followed suit.  A hundred and fourteen guns and mortars rained their shot and shell upon the town, and the guns of the batteries of the garrison at once responded.

Several of the officers of the 58th, and their wives, had come up to Captain O’Halloran’s to enjoy, from the terrace, the view of the great convoy entering the port.  All were in the highest spirits, at the thought of the abundant supplies that would now be at their disposal; and in the belief that the Spaniards, seeing that the garrison was again amply provisioned, would abandon the siege, which had now lasted for twenty-two months.  Suddenly there came upon the air the deep sound of the guns of San Philip, followed by a prolonged roar as the whole of the Spanish batteries opened fire.  The hum of shot could be heard, followed by the explosion of shells, the fall of masonry, and screams and cries.

“The bombardment has begun, at last!” Captain O’Halloran exclaimed.

The greatest consternation reigned among the ladies.  Several of them had left children in their quarters and, although the barracks were so placed as to be, to a great extent, sheltered from the enemy’s fire from the land side, they were still terribly anxious as to their safety.  Two of them had, like the O’Hallorans, quarters in the town itself; and the husbands of these ladies, accompanied by Captain O’Halloran and Bob, at once set out to bring the children up to the house, which was perfectly sheltered.

The scene in the town was a pitiful one.  Men, women, and children were flying, in the wildest alarm, towards the gate looking south; and thence out to the huts that the more prudent ones had erected, many months before, near Europa Point.  Shot and shell were raining down, while chimneys and portions of masonry fell clattering in the streets.  Sick people were being carried out, on doors or planks; and most of the inhabitants were laden with what few articles of value they could snatch up, at the first alarm.  The children were soon brought up to the O’Hallorans’ and then, for a time, there was nothing to do but to listen to the roar of artillery.

The officers and Bob ascended the Rock, to a point near one of the batteries, whence they could command a view of the Spanish lines.  The flashes of smoke were bursting forth almost incessantly; but were answered shot for shot from the English batteries, which had already almost silenced the San Carlos Battery, which mounted a large number of mortars, and against which the fire of the English guns was concentrated.

Between one and two o’clock the Spanish fire abated, and soon ceased altogether.  The inhabitants took advantage of the lull to hurry back to their houses, whence they removed the lighter and more portable articles; but the heavy stores ­of which it now appeared many of them had large quantities concealed ­they were, of course, unable to take away.

The discovery of these stores excited much indignation among the troops.  The inhabitants had been constantly representing themselves as reduced to the last point of hunger, and had frequently received provisions from the scanty supplies of the garrison; and the soldiers were exasperated on finding that, all this time, they possessed great stores of wine, flour, and other articles; which they were hoarding to produce, and sell, when prices should rise to even more exorbitant heights than they had already reached.

At five o’clock the enemy’s batteries opened again; and the firing continued, without intermission, all that night.  As several casualties had taken place, in the barracks and quarters; marquees were, on the following morning, served out to all the officers whose quarters were exposed to fire, and these were pitched near Europa Point, as were also a large number of tents for the use of the inhabitants.

A considerable body of troops were kept under arms, near the northern gate, in case the Spaniards should attempt to make an assault under cover of their fire; and five hundred officers and men were told off, to assist in the work of getting the supplies up from the wharves, as fast as they were landed from the transports.

The bombardment continued during the whole of the next two days.  The mortars still poured their shells upon the town; but the guns were now directed at our batteries, and their fire was remarkably accurate.

On the 14th the unloading parties were increased to a thousand men, and strong detachments of troops were told off to extinguish the fires in the town; as the enemy were now discharging shell filled with a composition that burned with great fury, igniting everything with which it came in contact.  The troops engaged upon this duty were not long in broaching the casks of wine found, in such abundance, in many of the ruined houses.  For two years they had been living almost entirely on salt provisions, and wine had been selling at prices vastly beyond their means.  It was scarcely surprising, then, that they should take advantage of this opportunity.

The stores were practically lost, for the whole town was crumbling to pieces beneath the fire of the enemy’s mortars, and was on fire in several places; and little, if any, of the liquor and stores consumed could, in any case, have been saved.  However, for a time insubordination reigned.  The troops carried off liquor to their quarters, barricaded themselves there, and got drunk; and it was two or three days before discipline was restored.  Up to this time the conduct of the soldiers had been most exemplary, and they had borne their prolonged hardships without a murmur; and this outbreak was due as much to a spirit of revenge against the inhabitants, for hiding away great stores of provisions and liquor, with a view to making exorbitant profits, as from a desire to indulge in a luxury of which they had been so long deprived.

On the 15th the enemy’s fire was hotter than ever; and the guns were withdrawn from our batteries, as they produced but little effect upon the Spanish batteries, and the men working them suffered a good deal from the besiegers’ fire.  Two officers were dangerously wounded, in one of the casemates of the King’s Bastion; and the fire was so heavy, around some of the barracks, that all the troops who could not be disposed of, in the casemates and bomb-proofs, were sent out of the town and encamped southward and, the next day, all the women and children who had gone with their husbands and fathers into the casemates were also removed, and placed under canvas.  All this gave incessant work to the troops, for there was no level ground upon which the tents could be pitched and, as it was therefore necessary to level all the ground into terraces, it was some days before the camps were ranged in anything like order.

Each day the enemy sent out their gunboats to harass the merchantmen, but these were always driven back by the guns of the fleet.  On the 17th the besiegers’ shells set fire to the Spanish church, which had been used as a storehouse.  Strong parties were sent down to remove the provisions, which consisted largely of barrels of flour.  These were carried up and piled, so as to afford protection to the casemates, which had been frequently entered by the enemy’s shots ­several men having been killed there.  They proved a valuable defence; and afforded, moreover, great amusement to the soldiers who, whenever a barrel was smashed by a shell, carried off the contents and quickly converted them into pancakes, until so many casks had been emptied that the whole structure came toppling down.

On the 18th a shell came through the arch of one of the casemates, killing two and wounding four men and, in consequence, a good many more of the troops were sent under canvas.

On the 20th the work of unloading the greater portion of the transports was completed; and the admiral, who was most anxious to take advantage of the easterly wind, that was blowing, to sail out of the Straits, gave the signal for departure.  Many of the merchantmen, whose cargoes were consigned to merchants and traders on the Rock, carried them back to England; as the merchants, having no place, whatever, in which to store goods ­for the town was now almost entirely destroyed ­refused to accept them.  The transports, with ordnance stores, were brought in behind the New Mole to be discharged at leisure; while several colliers were run close in, and scuttled, so that their cargoes could be removed as required.

A great many of the inhabitants, and of the officers’ wives and families, embarked on board the fleet before it left.  The enemy’s fire still continued very heavy; and their guns and mortar boats, on the 23rd, came boldly out and opened fire upon the working parties, who were stacking the barrels and stores at the south end of the Rock.  The wife of a soldier was killed, and several men wounded.

On the 26th the governor determined sternly to repress the drunkenness that still prevailed, owing to the soldiers going down among the ruins of the town, where they occasionally discovered uninjured casks of wine.  An order was therefore issued, on that day, that any soldier convicted of being drunk, asleep at his post, or marauding, should be immediately shot.

On the 27th a convoy of twenty ships, in charge of the Brilliant and three other frigates, came in from Minorca; where the governor had ordered provisions to be purchased, in case the convoy expected from England did not arrive.  The arrival of these ships largely added to the stores at the disposal of the garrison.