Chris led the way to the creek and the marsh. This time both he and Mr. Wicker wore high boots which kept the icy water and mud from their feet.
"What I wouldn't give for a flashlight!" Chris muttered as they came to the marsh.
"Yes, the twentieth century has many conveniences," Mr. Wicker replied, and Chris could imagine, behind him, the man's sardonic smile and amused eyes.
They came out suddenly from the blackness of the woods to the wind-whipped river, and though the moon was still obscured, the river held a pallid sheen of its own that gave a little light. There was not a sound to be heard but the hurried lap of water against the shore, the suck and pull of Chris's and Mr. Wicker's boots in the mud, and sharp, hair-raising rustles, from time to time, in the reeds. Chris's heart thudded in his throat at these furtive noises, for they could only be made by rats or watersnakes, and Chris liked neither of these, especially by night.
Pushing along the marsh edge and feeling their way, the two figures at last came in sight of their goal. The high dark hull of the Venture rose above the water, an amber lantern hanging at her stern. The wind swung the ship, and the tide, still flowing up the Potomac, showed that the bow, held by the anchor, was pointed somewhat downstream.
"The anchor may have dragged," Chris whispered to Mr. Wicker. "Now for our boat!"
The rope seemed to uncoil from about his waist almost of itself, and with the gestures he had been taught, Chris formed a very adequate craft; a trifle lopsided, it must be admitted, as he had had small practice, but seaworthy nevertheless.
"I shall see that the men sleep soundly," Mr. Wicker murmured. "You do the rest."
"I shall, sir!" Chris agreed, and then the moon showed an edge for a moment in the clouds. "Look sir—the Mirabelle!"
Toward sleeping Georgetown, for it was nearly midnight now, a whiteness showed itself, close against the distant wharfs. The Mirabelle was edging out, and Chris knew that Ned, Bowie, Abner Cloud, and others were pulling her by the ship's boats into the main flow of the river. Once turned, she would float noiselessly down the Potomac past the Venture, and once he was aboard, would hoist her sails and set her course to sea.