"The cables, sir," cried Harold, pulling at the handle of the door. "You are moored alongside the staging, they tell me. Cut the cables and float out into the stream. Then they will miss you. I've a knife. It is the only thing we can do to escape them."
He pulled the door open, while with an exclamation of delight Mr. Blunt blew out the candle in the lamp and dragged Dudley out on to the deck. Harold had already gained it and, knife in hand, raced forward. Going on hands and knees he felt for the cable which moored the boat for'ard, and, finding it, severed it with a sweep of the blade. Meanwhile Mr. Blunt had sought for the rope right aft, and with a slash from his hunting knife cut it in two. By then Dudley had recovered from his astonishment at what had occurred. With an effort he banished all thought of the crime for which he was expelled. Once more he was working in the interests of his employer, and set about his defence with all his old enthusiasm. He ran into the bow, where he and Harold stood side by side, listening to the men aboard the other boat.
"They are within ten yards, I should say," he whispered to Joyce. "That should give us just time to get away, unless the mud holds us. Are we moving?"
Harold promptly hung over the rail, and stared down at the black surface of the river.
"I don't think so," he answered in low tones, coming to Dudley's side again. "We are on the mud. They will catch us yet."
"Not if we pole away. There are some poles on deck, I know. Come along with me, Harold. And, look here, just pitch that plank overboard."
They were standing close beside the place where the plank gangway came in from the shore, and at once Harold seized it and gently drew it inboard.
"Better not make a row by throwing it over," he whispered. "The beggars don't know we've moved yet. Better keep them in ignorance. Ah, here's a pole!"
Mr. Blunt joined them at that instant, and, hearing what they were doing, at once helped them. It happened that there were several long poles lying along the scuppers, for often enough the river boats got aground on a mud or sand bank, and then the crew were forced to pole them off. Seizing three of them, the trio lowered the ends into the water close to the bow, and pushed with might and main. The boat moved. She had a good deal of water under her, and the mud just held the after part of her shallow keel. The bow swung out rapidly, the poles were shifted, and in a minute the boat was almost broadside on to the stream. By then the one which was descending upon them was within four yards, but so busy were the ruffians at her cable that as yet they had not discovered what was occurring.
"They will know in a moment," whispered Mr. Blunt, drawing in his pole. "The ruffians ashore are on the wharf already. You can hear them now. They are searching for the boat and the gangway, and in a few seconds one of them will see us out here. Then the whole pack will shout, and those aboard the vessel just above us will fire. Got a weapon, sir?"