But they had to pay for their pleasure. As the level sank till there was ample room to thrust the boat out, and they were thinking that to be safe they ought to withdraw a little and wait until they could feel sure that the lugger and her crew were gone—a departure they felt must be some time that evening, when the tide was at a certain stage well known to old Joe—the entrance was suddenly darkened once more by a boat, whose bows came with the stream from the right, and were cleverly directed in, while her occupants began to thrust her along by pressing against the sides, and a couple of lanthorns were held up.
“Aha!” cried the voice the boys had grown to hate, “so ve have found a pair of ze seal sitting in a boat vich zey steal avay. You are right, Joseph, mon bon ami. Your boat sall not have gone out of ze pool, and you sall have him back. Aha! Stop you bose, or I fire, and zis time I vill not miss.”
“In, in farther, Vince,” whispered Mike wildly.
“No: they’ve seen us, and they could follow us in their boat. It’s of no use, Mike; we must give up this time.”
“You hear me?” roared the captain fiercely. “I see quite plain vere you sall be. Venez. Come out.”
“Come and fetch us,” said Vince shortly. “You have your men.”
The captain gave his orders, the boat was thrust on, and as its bow approached the boys saw the black silhouette of their old companion in many a fishing trip seated on the forward thwart.
This was too much for Vince, who began upon him at once, with bitter irony in his words and tone.
“You there, Joe!” he cried. “Good morning. Don’t you feel very proud of this?”
“Dunno ’bout proud, young gen’leman; but I’m precious glad to get my boat back.”