Tom gave his mate a look of gratitude.
“Yes,” he cried, “we only jist landed. You let—let us go an’ we’ll go right away at once.”
But Petit was thoughtfully studying the boat.
“Does zat boat belong wiz you?” he asked.
“N—no,” replied Tom, in anguished tones, “we jist borryed ’er to come acrost to the island after wild figs.”
“Borree,” repeated the escapee, “borree? I not understand.”
“Yes,” repeated Tom, “we jist borryed—took the loan of ’er, like—meanin’ to give her back again.”
“Ah!” said Petit, “you vat he call shake, steal it, eh?”
“No,” cried Tom; “we’re honest, we are! Dead honest. Neither of us never shook nothink in our lives—leastwise, not that we knowed of.”