“Then creep over the bulwark and drop down one after the other.”
“Cut the painter,” said Vince.
“And then we’re free.”
There was a pause, during which Mike got tight hold of Vince’s hand, and the latter felt that it was cold and wet from the boy’s excitement.
“I don’t know so much about being free,” whispered Vince. “We should be away from this wretched old lugger; but where should we be going then? Didn’t I warn you about the rocks and currents?”
“Yes; but we should have old Joe’s boat, and we can manage that easily enough.”
“Yes, if we’re in the open sea, even if she’s sinking, Ladle; but shut-in here among the rocks I don’t know how we should get along. But anything’s better than sitting down and not having a try.”
“Yes, anything,” said Mike, in a low, excited whisper.
“Yes, anything. We must try for the sake of those at home. I know my father is sure to say to me, ‘Didn’t you try to escape?’”
“So will mine,” said Mike. “Oh yes, we must have a good try. Think we can climb up?”