“Heaven forbid, sir!” said the first-mate solemnly.
“What are you talking about, sir? and you all the time with a double gun in your fist. Why, it warms the very blood in my veins.”
“You see I’m not a fighting man, sir,” said Gregory sternly. “Yes,” he continued, as he saw the major give him a peculiar look, and reading his meaning, “you’re quite right, sir, I am white, and I feel afraid—horribly afraid, as I think of what may be happening to those poor women left on board, and my poor captain and our men.”
“And I forgot all about my wife and child,” cried the major, increasing his pace, as he wiped the perspiration from his brow. “Come on, gentlemen, for heaven’s sake!”
They were already going along at a double, where the rough river-bed would allow, but the progress was very slow, while, though they had come along leisurely, it was astounding how great a distance they had placed between them and the boat.
“For heaven’s sake, come on, gentlemen!” said the major again, and at another time his remark would have seemed very Irish and droll, for he was last but one in the little party, and hard pressed to keep up in the intense heat of the inclosed and stifling place.
“Ahoy!” came from ahead just then.
“Ahoy!” answered the mate, who was leading, with Mark next; and the next minute they were face to face with the four men who had been left with the boat. “What is it, my lads?” he panted.
“Pirates, sir, praus!”
“Nonsense!” cried the mate fiercely.