“No, hang it all, I won’t. It’s too bad; and there’s a woman aboard. Bad enough as it is.”
Then following the example of those who had gone before, he went softly aft, feeling his way along the bulwarks till his hand came in contact with the rope, and he, too, slid down into the boat.
“Well, did you cut the great rope?” whispered a voice.
“Yes, gov’nor, all right. But not deep,” added the man to himself.
“Quick then, quick then,” whispered the former speaker, “undo this little rope and let the boat float away.”
The boat’s painter was loosened—but not without rattling the iron ring through which it was run—dropped over the side with a splash, and just faintly grating against the vessel’s side the boat glided away, appearing for a few moments in the faint glow cast from the stern windows, and then seeming to pass into a bank of utter darkness.
“I no care what you say, Mass’ Oakum, sah,” said ’Pollo a few moments before; and his great black ears seemed to start forward like those of a hare, “I sure I hear de rattle ob a rope; and you see if dare isn’t a boat under de side.”
He leaped softly up, and ran on deck, followed by Oakum.
“Dere, I sure I right,” whispered the black, pointing astern. “Boat full ob men.”
“I can’t see nowt,” growled Sam. “Let’s go forward and ask the look-out if they heerd anything. Hear a boat touch the side, mates?” he said aloud.