“Well, I thought I knowed the bearings,” said Wat.
“What fools we’d look if it were daylight,” said Gil; “standing up to our middles.”
“Chesties,” said Wat, correctively.
“Well, to our chests or chins, if you like,” cried Gil. “Heaven be praised that it is so dark.”
“So don’t say I,” cried Wat, softly; “for if it was not so dark I could see which way to steer.”
“Do you mean to tell me, Wat,” whispered Gil, in a low angry voice, “that you have persuaded me into trusting to your guidance, and that now you know nothing of the depth of the Pool?”
“I could have sworn as that little sandy reef ran right across to the other side.”
“And now there is deep water all round.”
“Unless we go back.”
“Confusion!” ejaculated Gil. “Am I to understand that you don’t know the way at all?”