Corman and Ædric remained for a few moments in speechless curiosity. The man on horseback had galloped furiously up to the men, and was gesticulating rapidly. The men dispersed and ran about the shore. At last they all seemed to be running to one spot. They all collected round something, the man on horseback appearing to be energetically directing them.
"Why, it's one of the Boseham boats they are launching, I do believe," said Corman.
"So it is, and now they are getting into it. What do you think it means?"
"I think they are going to row after us."
So saying, Corman began rowing again as hard as he could.
They were about three-quarters of a mile away, and had to go about a mile more before they could reach the "hard," or landing place, on the other side of the creek, for they had to row out of the little creek, at the head of which Boseham stands, and cross the larger creek that wound its muddy way up to within a mile of Cissanceaster.
The tide was running out strongly, and this was all in their favour, for as they got farther down the stream ran stronger.
Corman knew the importance of making the full use of the tide, and he strained every muscle to get into the main channel.
The other boat was now manned, and the crew were rowing vigorously, but unscientifically. The horseman had got in, and was steering.
"They are not gaining much, if at all," said Ædric.