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away we go!” replied Roger.

And the two started off, swimming strongly, with a side stroke instead of the breast; for although the former required more power, yet it was the faster stroke, and they reckoned their strength to be quite equal to a much longer distance than that to the ship.

But, as is invariably the case, distance viewed over water is deceptive, and by the time that they had done three-quarters of the course both were feeling pretty well fagged out with their unusual exertions, though neither would admit it; and the fact remained that they were swimming much slower than at the start. Suddenly they were startled by a loud hail from the deck of the Stag Royal—the ship for which they were making,—in the voice of Cavendish.

“Be not frightened, lads, but pull out as fast as you can for the ship; there are sharks coming after you!”

Their hearts leapt in their breasts at this startling news, and, looking hurriedly round, they perceived, to their horror, that several black triangular dorsal fins were cleaving the water in their wake, and closing rapidly in upon them.

Fortunately the water in the direction in which they were swimming was as yet clear, to all appearance.

“Cannot you send a boat, sir? We are nearly exhausted with the swim,” hailed Roger, who was slightly in advance of Harry.

“Nay, that I cannot, lad, for all the boats are still on shore. You must swim, and for your lives’ sake swim hard,” answered Cavendish from the deck of the ship.

He was leaning anxiously over the bulwarks, and the rail was lined with the faces of the few seamen who were left on board, while two of them had gone down the accommodation ladder and were waiting at the foot, ready to haul the lads in as soon as they were near enough.

The men on board now quickly seized whatever missiles they could lay their hands on, and stood ready to bombard the sharks, in the hope of driving them off, if they did not seize the lads before they got within range.

As for Harry and Roger, they struck out with the energy of terror; but each felt that he was tiring with every stroke, while the knowledge that at any moment they might feel themselves in the jaws of one of those sea-tigers seemed to paralyse their limbs. Their flesh crept with the horror of the thought.

Harry, especially, was showing manifest symptoms of increasing distress; while Roger, resisting the impulse to swim on and reach safety, kept valiantly at his side, encouraging him.

“Go on, Roger,” at length gasped Harry; “I am done, and cannot reach the ship. Swim you on and get on board; I will follow if I can.”

“Nay, Harry, lad,” answered Roger, “either we both get on board, or—or not; we did not make our compact to break it at the first sign of danger. Do your utmost, and we shall yet get on board all right.”

Even in his extremity Harry could not avoid noticing that Roger hesitated when he came to “or—or not;” the brave lad could not bring himself to utter the alternative in words.

Before leaving the shore the boys had stripped down to their pantaloons and vests, which they had retained as a makeshift bathing-costume. Now, as luck would have it, Roger invariably wore a belt round his waist, to which was attached a very fine Venetian dagger, slender of blade, sharp as a razor, and very strong.

This had been given him by his father as a parting keepsake, and he looked upon it almost as a kind of talisman; he therefore never allowed it to leave his person.

Merely by force of habit he had buckled this belt and dagger about him before starting for the swim, and now, in the moment of his deadly danger, he suddenly recollected that he had it on him, and an idea came to him like an inspiration.

“Harry, swim you on and reach the ship,” said he. “I am not at all tired, and I have my dagger with me; swim on, and I will swim after you. Argue not, lad, you will but waste your breath; do as I say, and make all haste to the ship.”

Harry, knowing that when Roger spoke thus it was useless to argue, did as he was ordered, and struck out for the vessel with such energy as he could muster.

For his part, Roger drew his dagger, and held it firmly in his hand; and then, swimming after Harry, began to splash and shout with all his might.

The fins, which had by this time come very close to them, paused suddenly and scattered at the unexpected commotion; and a little time was thus gained for the fugitives, who made the utmost of it.

The sharks, however, were not so easily to be denied, and presently they began to close in again; by which time Harry was approaching the side of the Stag Royal, while Roger was still some distance behind, splashing and shouting vigorously.

The fins drew nearer and nearer with deadly determination.

Abandoning now the splashing, which was greatly exhausting him, Roger put out all his remaining strength and swam for his life, while, the splashing having ceased, the sharks were after him again at once.

It was now a race, not between two boys for a wager of a noble, but between a boy and a school of sharks, with the boy’s life as the stake.

The sharks were fast gaining upon Roger, and he and they were as yet quite out of range of the missiles with which the men were ready to pelt the ravenous monsters. But Harry had meanwhile reached the ship and been hauled in and deposited on deck, where he immediately sank down fainting with exhaustion.

Then, seeing his friend safe, Roger redoubled his efforts, and the distance between the sharks and him lessened but slightly, while he decreased the distance between himself and the ship very perceptibly.

These herculean efforts could not last long, however, and the sharks once more began to draw in upon him.

The men on the deck of the ship now shouted, and flung their missiles as far as they could; but the swimmer and the sharks were still too far off for the latter to be frightened by the bombardment.

Inch by inch the ravenous fish closed in on the lad.

He glanced over his shoulder as he swam, and as he perceived how close the monsters were, the men on board the ship could see, even at that distance, that his face turned livid.

The foremost shark was nearly on him now, and there was yet a considerable distance to cover ere he could reach safety.

Suddenly the leading fin disappeared, and the watchers knew that the shark had dived, in order the better to seize its prey. Their warning was roared over the water to him, but apparently too late, for with their shout, Roger’s body disappeared!

A cry of horror at once went up from the ship, and strong men turned away, unwilling to witness the death of their favourite.

Those who still watched, however, almost immediately saw a tremendous disturbance of the water just below the spot where Roger had disappeared; and presently a broad blotch of red stained the blue water of the inlet, while a deep groan went up from the assembled crowd on deck. But the groan quickly changed to a mighty cheer as they saw Roger’s form appear again at some considerable distance nearer the ship, and evidently safe and sound, for he was still swimming strongly. And immediately after, in his rear, the body of the shark rose to the surface, floating on its back, dead! The remainder of the sharks instantly flung themselves upon the carcass, tearing it to pieces, and churning up a bloody froth as they struggled and tore and fought for their share of the spoil.

Roger had done the only thing possible to save his life. As the shark dived, so did he, and, swimming below the brute, he had ripped up its belly with several strong slashing blows from his keen dagger, thus effectually ridding himself of one adversary, and trusting that the remainder of the school would wait to devour it—as indeed they had done,—thus giving him a further chance to escape.

He was now quite near the ship; but the sharks had quickly disposed of the carcass of their companion, and were again after him. Roger, however, was now within range. So, as the sharks came on in pursuit, they were bombarded with every description of missile upon which the men could lay their hands, a proceeding which checked them slightly, and gave Roger a little more grace.

At length, utterly exhausted, the plucky lad reached the foot of the accommodation ladder, but just in time, for, as he was pulled clear of the water, a pair of huge jaws clashed behind him with a sound that made him nearly faint, so suggestive was it of what he had so narrowly escaped.

By the time that he reached the deck Harry had fully recovered, and he was the first to grasp Roger’s hand and wring it convulsively as the latter stepped inboard. Harry could find no words wherewith to express his feelings adequately, but the pressure of his hand spoke for him, and Roger felt amply repaid for all he had done.

“And now, young gentlemen,” said Cavendish sternly, when the young hero of the adventure had been recovered somewhat by the administration of a liberal dose of rum, “let this be a warning to you never again to go bathing in these seas. You have both had a most miraculous escape, and I for one had given the pair of you up as lost. But, thank Heaven, you are safe after all. Only never let it occur again. But I suppose you will take care of that,” he added with a twinkle in his eye. “Your first experience with Johnny Shark has been enough for you, hasn’t it?”

They reassured him on that point, and both then went below to dress. When they were again clothed, Harry said:

“And now, how shall we spend the remainder of the day, Roger? I don’t feel like going ashore again to-day, even if we had a boat. The idea of crossing that sheet of water again does not very greatly appeal to me just now.”

“I feel pretty much as you do,” replied Roger. “I have had quite enough of the water for to-day. As an alternative, I suggest that we investigate that sheaf of documents that we took out of the Gloria del Mundo at the time of the battle. That fellow Alvarez seemed feverishly anxious to find a certain paper, and bitterly disappointed at his failure, so perhaps there may be something of value among them.”

So saying, Roger went to his sea-chest, and, having unlocked it, drew out the bundle of papers to which he had referred, and laid it on the table.

They ran through most of them without finding anything of interest, those examined proving to be merely papers relating to the provisioning of the ship, and one or two old charts with courses marked off on them.

On another chart, however, they found something that claimed a moment’s attention. It was one upon which the position of the Spanish intercepting fleet had been laid down, together with the supposed course that the English vessels would steer, thus proving that they had correctly anticipated the movements of the English. This they put aside, intending to hand it to Cavendish, as it would be of interest to him.

“This is probably the document that scoundrel Alvarez was looking for while the Gloria del Mundo was sinking,” said Roger, who had related to Harry all that had happened while he was awaiting death in the cabin of the Spanish vessel.

“Hardly that,” demurred Harry. “I should think it would be something of much more importance; because, you see, this would not be of much value to him after the action. Let us search further.”

They did

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