"In a case like this," answered Mr. Tucker sagely, "as often as not there's wheels within wheels. Well, I won't detain ye. Good-night, friends!"
"Good-night!"
I heard the creak of thole-pins as the rowers gave way, and the wash of oars as the boat shot off into the dark. Mr. Pengelly sent me a low whistle and I crept forth.
"Hear what they said?" he asked.
"They—they didn't give much trouble."
"Depends what you call trouble." He seemed slightly hurt in his feelings, and added, with asperity and obvious truth, "Carry it off how you will, a honeymoon's a honeymoon, and a man doesn't expect to be interrupted with questions about a sweep's apprentice."
"Stand by!" cautioned the voice aft, low and firm as before. "By the sound of it they've stopped rowing."
"If they come on us again, we're done for. That Tucker's a fool, but I noticed one or two of the men muttering together."
"Sounds as if they were putting about. Can the boy swim?" asked Mrs. Pengelly anxiously.
"I'll bet he can't."