“Then pray let us get away before it is too late,” whispered Mr Frewen.
“Afraid, doctor?”
“Yes—for those poor shivering people below, sir—and, well, yes, I am alarmed too, knowing that at any time the deck may be rent up beneath our feet and the vessel sink.”
“Yes; it is unpleasant to think about, and there is the danger of those scoundrels lowering one of the boats and coming round here for stores that they have none of there. Ah, there goes one of them down.”
For plainly enough came the chirruping of the falls as the boat was lowered from the davits.
“Now then, down with you, Frewen. You next, my lads; I don’t think I can remember anything else. You after the men, Dale, and I come last, as I’m captain for the time.”
We all obeyed with alacrity, and I breathed more freely as I sat down in the boat. Then Mr Brymer slid down, and threw the rope back through the cabin-window.
The next minute the painter was withdrawn from the ring-bolt, and Bob Hampton sent the boat away with a tremendous thrust; oars were got out, and we rowed out into the darkness to lie-to about three hundred yards from the ship, just as a dark object came along from forward, and we saw that, as the mate had expected, the boat which had been lowered had come round to the stern-windows for the men to mount, if they could, in search of stores.
“None too soon. Dale,” said the mate, coolly, and a deep breath of relief escaped my lips as I replied in his words—
“No, sir; none too soon.”