“Not I,” said Bob; “don’t you?”
“Not the ghost of an idea!” cried Tom.
The girls were watching them, and evidently in a state of great excitement were trying to comprehend their words; but as soon as they saw their indecision, and their bold start off in the direction they imagined to be correct, then the slave girls understood their dilemma and stopped them, gesticulating and shaking their heads as they pointed in a quite fresh direction.
“They know where the ship lies, see if they don’t,” said Bob. “Let’s trust them.”
“But suppose they lead us wrong?” replied Tom.
“Not they,” cried Bob. “They’ll lead us right away. Come along, my fair specimens of chocolate à vanille; and the sooner we are safe under the British flag, the better I shall like it.”
The girls started off at a sharp walk, and then made signs that they should run.
“All right,” said Bob, nodding his head. “Double there, in the infantry brigade! Naval brigade to the front! Forward!”
He broke into a trot, and the little party ran sharply on, to the great delight of the two escaped slaves, who, as Bob had prophesied, led them straight away to the side of the river, which they reached without encountering a soul.
“I’m about knocked up,” said Bob, panting. “It’s disgusting to find these girls can beat us hollow at running.”