The boat left the shore so rapidly that Chap scarcely caught the last of these words. He suddenly remembered that he was leaving a lady alone on the shore.
“I never thought,” he said, “that she would be there all by herself.”
“Dar’s nuffin’ dar to hurt her,” said one of the negroes, who was afraid Chap might change his mind and turn back, and so make them lose their money; “and we ain’t got no time to take her on if ye want to ketch that boat.”
“That’s so,” said Chap; “and now give way, my hearties!”
Chap had read tales of man-of-war life and of whaling voyages, and he knew that the way to make men row hard and fast was to yell and shout at them like mad, and for work of this kind no one was better adapted than the captain of the Rolling Stones.
The negroes became so excited that they made the boat spin over the water. It stopped directly in the course of the Humphrey Giles, when that boat was a quarter of a mile away.
Chap stood up in the stern, and frantically waved his hat, and shouted,—
“Stop!”
Perceiving that something was the matter, the captain of the great steamboat gave orders to slow up and back water, and as soon as she was stopped Chap was pulled to her side, and gave the news of the Winkyminky’s disaster, and the message of the countess.
The countess was well known along the river, and apart from his willingness to assist the passengers of a disabled boat, the captain knew that he would be paid for any loss he might sustain by stopping.