He clapped his hand upon Vince’s shoulder, and walked with both to the boat, signing to them to enter and go right forward, where they seated themselves in the bows while he took his place in the stern.
“Oh, Cinder!” whispered Mike, with a look of admiration at his friend, “I wish I’d had the heart to speak to him like that.”
“What?” whispered back Vince, “why, I never felt so frightened in my life. I thought he was going to shoot.”
“I don’t believe it,” said Mike quietly. “I say, now let’s see how they manage to get out of this great whirling pool.”
They were not kept waiting long, for the boat was thrust off, sent into the stream, and away they went, skirting the long, low rock which rose in their way; and then, just as it seemed that they were going to be sunk by the tremendous rush of water passing in between two huge masses, the boat was thrust into another sharply marked current, hung in suspense for a few moments, and then glided along the backwater and out at last into the pool. Here the glassy surface streaked with numerous lines told of the rapid currents following their well-marked courses, and the eddies and reflections of the water known to the men and taken advantage of, so that the vessel’s side was reached with ease.
As they neared the side the captain, who had been keenly watching the boys and reading their thoughts, came slowly past his men, so quietly that Vince and Mike started on hearing him speak.
“You could manage ze boat now and take him vere you vill? Non, mes enfans. It take long time to find ze vay. I sink you bose drown last night, but you have bonne fortune and escape. But you get avay till I say go? Nevaire! Shump.”
He pointed upward, and the lads climbed aboard, looking wistfully to right and left as they recalled their adventures along the side in the dark, and saw old Daygo’s boat hanging by her painter close under the stern.
“Took a lot of trouble for nothing, Cinder,” said Mike sadly.
“Yes: can’t always win,” replied Vince. “Never mind: I’m glad we tried.”