“No, nor your father either,” said Mike sadly. “I don’t think anything of that,” continued Vince; “what I do think a great deal of is that neither you nor I, who’ve always been climbing about the cliffs and boating shouldn’t have found it out before.”
“But surely now we’re missing they’ll find it out,” cried Mike, who was ready to snatch at any straw of hope.
“I don’t see how,” said Vince. “They’re sure to think that one of us met with an accident, and that the other was drowned in trying to save him.”
Mike was silent for some moments, during which he stood gazing wistfully at his fellow-prisoner.
“That would be very nice of them to think that of us,” he said at last, slowly. “But do you think they would believe us likely to be so brave?”
“Oh yes, they’d think so,” said Vince quickly—“I’m sure they would; but I don’t know about it’s being brave. It’s only what two fellows would do one for the other. It’s what English chaps always do, of course, but it’s like making a lot of fuss about it to call it brave. I should say it’s what a fellow should do, that’s all.”
“And no one knows—no one saw us go to the hole,” said Mike bitterly. “Oh, I say, Vince, we have made a mess of it to keep it a secret.”
“Yes, we have, and no mistake.”
“And no one knows,” repeated Mike thoughtfully. “Don’t you think Lobster might know, and tell them?”
“No, I’m sure he can’t. Of course old Joe knows; but he won’t speak, because if he did, and told the truth, the captain here would be ready to shoot him.”