Still no response, and the boat floated on beneath the wondrous starry sky, while every time those in the boat made the slightest movement a golden rippling film seemed to run from her sides, and die away upon the surface of the sea.
“She brimes a deal,” said Josh, in allusion to the golden water; and then, leaping up, he began to beat his breast with his arms; “I’m a-cold!” he exclaimed. “Now, then; let’s have a try;” and, placing his hands to his face once more, he uttered a tremendous hail.
“Ahoy—ah!”
Long drawn out and dismal; and then Dick’s heart gave a quick hopeful leap, for, from far away, and sounding faint and strange, came an answering hail, but not like Josh’s dismal appeal. It was a sharp, short, cheery “Ahoy!” full of promise of action.
“They’ve heard us at last!” cried Will eagerly. “That’s the coastguard, and they’ll come off in their gig, as it’s so smooth.”
“I say,” said Josh, in his low sing-song way; “haven’t I put it too strong? They’ll think somethin’ ’orrid’s wrong—that it’s a wreck, or somethin’ worse.”
“Let them!” cried Will. “It’s horrible enough to be afloat in an open boat in the dark without oar or sail. Hail again, Josh.”
“Ahoy—ah!” cried the fisherman once more, and an answer came back at once. Then another and another.
“They’ll soon get a boat,” cried Will. “You listen.”
“But they’ll never find us in the dark!” cried Dick dismally.