“But,” cried Mr Temple, who felt alarmed now on account of his boys and their companions, “what are we to do? We must leave the boat and wade out.”
“Wade!” growled Josh. “Why, there’s three fathom o’ water under where we sit.”
“Then we must swim through,” cried Mr Temple excitedly. “There is no time to spare. Man, man, why did you not warn us of the danger?”
“Why—why?” growled Josh. “I didn’t know. I never see the tide come up that gashly way afore.”
“It was while you were asleep, Josh,” said Dick in a whisper; and Josh turned upon him as if he had been stung.
“Now,” cried Mr Temple, as he pointed to the low opening through which was the sunshiny sea and safety, while on their side was apparently darkness and death; “now, Dick, you can swim through there; but first try whether by lying down we can force the boat under.”
“Oh, I’ll try!” said Josh; “but it’s of no use, not a bit of use. Be it, Will?”
“No,” said the latter decidedly, as he and Josh urged the boat right up to the entrance, and Mr Temple saw at once that it would be an impossibility.
“Then we must swim,” said Mr Temple. “You can swim that, Dick?”
“Yes, father,” said Dick. “Clothes and all.”