“Eh?” said Jem, starting from watching a large bird dive down with a splash in the silvery water, and then rise again with a fish in its beak; “see that, Mas’ Don?”
“Yes, yes,” exclaimed Don impatiently; “why not now?”
“Why not now, Mas’ Don?” said Jem, scratching his head; “is that what you call a connundydrum?”
“Don’t be stupid, man. I say, why not now?”
“Yes, I heared you say so twice; but what does it mean?”
“We’re quite alone; we have a boat and arms, with food and water. Why not escape now?”
“Escape, Mas’ Don? What, run away now at once—desert?”
“It is not running away, Jem; it is not deserting. They have robbed us of our liberty, and we should only be taking it back.”
“Ah, they’d preach quite a different sarmon to that,” said Jem, shaking his head.
“Why, you are never going to turn tail?”