“Some kind of a craft,” murmured Henry, as he looked forward in the uncertain light.
“Be quiet, there may be soldiers on guard here,” whispered Silvers in return.
Making certain that they were not observed, the pair stole down the rough steps. They were almost at the bottom when a loose stone turned under Silvers’ foot and went crashing downward.
The crash of the falling stone was followed by a cry from a sentry stationed on the cliff. The cry was answered by another sentry, and soon several forms appeared.
“We must hide!” cried Henry, and ran away from the steps.
“To the boat!” answered Silvers, and ran for the rude craft.
The young soldier followed, and just as they gained the boat a shot rang out. Then two soldiers came rushing down the rough steps.
“That will keep you back,” muttered the sharpshooter, and fired the musket. One of the soldiers was hit in the breast and fell, and the other lost no time in seeking cover.
Once on board of the boat, the pair untied the line which held it to the rude dock. Poles were handy and they pushed off into the stream. Then each took a paddle and did what he could to move the craft to the south shore of the St. Lawrence.
“She’s a clumsy one, lad,” observed Silvers, as they pushed the craft around only with the greatest of difficulty.