“Yes, I see it,” said Vince.
“Vat you make of zem?”
“They look strained too much, and as if they would part.”
“Good boy! You vould make a good sailor. Zey vill not part, for zey are new, and très fort—strong. Now you look here, mon ami.”
As he spoke he picked up a heavy dwarf bucket, with its rope attached, raised it above his head, and hurled it some twenty feet into the smooth water between the lugger and the high cliff face.
The water was like glass, and streaked with fine threads apparently; and the next minute the lads grasped the reason why, for the bucket had hardly touched the water when it began to be borne towards the lugger’s side, striking it directly after sharply, and then diving down out of sight.
Vince ran across the deck instantly to see it rise; and Mike followed, the captain joining them to lay his hands upon their shoulders once more.
“Aha! you see him come up again? No? Look encore and encore, and you nevaire sall see him. Vat you say to zat?”
“There must be a tremendous current,” said Vince. “Yais,—now,” said the captain. “Après, some time he run all ze ozaire vay and grind ze sheep close up right to ze rock. Vat you sink now? You shump ovaire, and svim avay? You creep along ze hawser and try to climb up ze cliff? No, I sink not now. You stay here on ze deck and vait till I vant you—ven ze boat come back. Dat is vy I show you how go avay ze bucket. Look now again.”
One of the boats was ready, and two men in her. The rope that held her to the side was cast off, and in an instant she glided away across the pool, towards an opening that had been unnoticed before, was deftly steered, and passed out of sight.