We missed them and got across to Port Phillip, and put Captain D---- and his black police on the alert; and they have got scent of it, and coasted up north.

We have examined the coast all along, but I am afraid they have given us the slip; there is such a system of intelligence among them.

However, if they had not landed before last night, they have saved us all trouble; and if they are ashore we wash our hands of them, and leave them to the police." Halbert and Sam looked at one another.

Then the former said,-- "Last night, about an hour before it came on to blow, we saw a boat making for this very headland, which puzzled us exceedingly; and, what was stranger still, we saw a man on the Cape, who seemed to be on the look-out." "That is quite possible," replied the midshipman; "these fellows have a queer system of communication.

The boat you saw must certainly have been them; and if they landed at all they must have landed here." * * * * * I must change the scene here, if you please, my dear reader, and get you to come with me on board his (I beg pardon, her) Majesty's ship Tartar for a few minutes, for on the quarter-deck of that noble sloop there are at this moment two men worth rescuing from oblivion.
The first is a stoutish, upright, middle-aged man, in a naval uniform, with a brickdust complexion, and very light scanty whiskers; the jolliest, cheeriest-looking fellow you are likely to meet in a year's journey.