Chapter Twenty One.
By the skin of their teeth.
“When we have escaped,” cried Fitz excitedly, a few minutes later, a very brief time having sufficed to shut out the cutter and gunboat too.
“Escaped!” said Poole, with a little laugh, as he clapped his companion on the shoulder. “Well, we have.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” said Fitz; “I meant you. But what will be done now? We are—you are regularly shut in this bay. The gunboat will keep guard, and her boats will begin patrolling up and down so that you can’t get away. It only means waiting till morning.”
“Waiting till morning, eh?”
“Of course. And then they’ll sink you as sure as you are here.”
“Yes,” said Poole, laughing merrily; “not a doubt about it.”
“Well,” said Fitz, “I don’t see anything to laugh at.”
“Don’t you? Then I do. Why, you don’t suppose for a moment that we shall be here? The fellows in that fishing-boat brought father some despatch orders for a rendezvous somewhere else, I should say. Just you wait a little, my boy, and you will see what the Teal can do. She can’t dive, but she can dodge.”