“They are going to fire on us!” he panted, as the shouting behind increased. “Shall we give up?”
“Not on my account.”
“Nor on mine. If we give up, they’ll put us in prison, sure. Pull on!”
And pull we did, until, in spite of the cold rain, each of us was dripping with perspiration and ready to drop with exhaustion.
Boom! a cannon shot rang out, and involuntarily both of us ducked our heads. But the shot flew wide of its mark—so wide, in fact, that we knew not where it went.
“They’ll get out a boat next!” I said. “Pull, Alano; put every ounce of muscle into the stroke.”
“I am doing that already,” he gasped. “We must be getting near the shore. What about the guard there?”
“We’ll have to trust to luck,” I answered.
Another shot came booming over the misty waters, and this time we heard the sizz of the cannon ball as it hit the waves and sank. We were now in the glare of the searchlight, but the mist and rain were in our favor.
“There is the shore!” I cried, on looking around a few seconds later. “Now be prepared to run for it as soon as the boat beaches!”