"Right, dear boy," returned Mr. Mole. "Isaac Mole himself, turned up in the very nick of time. God bless you, Jack."
"And you, too, sir. How are they all at home? My mother, my——"
"There, there," interrupted Harry; "we'll have the family history when we're fairly out of musket-shot range. If they find out any thing, they'll pot us off as easily as shooting for nuts at a fair."
"All right," said Jack, laughingly. "Pull away."
"Pull away, boys."
"Aye, aye, sir."
They had a good boatload, yet they moved through the water pretty smartly.
The vessel which had anchored in the bay, and which showed the British ensign at her masthead, was the identical ship that our old friend Mr. Mole had come in.
The messages that they had sent back to the different stations upon their journey had been successful in guiding Mr. Mole aright, happily enough.