“Sharks!” said Don despairingly. “I’d forgotten them.”
“That’s what I used to do, but you always remembered.”
“Jem,” said Don, after a pause, “we must chance the sharks. They will not see us in the dark.”
“But if— No; I won’t show the white feather, Mas’ Don,” said Jem. “Come on, and we’ll get a rope over to starboard and larboard too.”
“No need, Jem,” said Don. “The canoe is sure to come from the land side.”
“All right, sir. Come on, and don’t say another word.”
Jem crept away, keeping in the shadow, and moving very slowly, so as not to attract the attention of the watch, and Don followed, while, as soon as he had gone a few yards, what looked like a dog slowly crept by on all fours close beneath the bulwark, after getting up from a crouching position just by where the pair had been discussing their chances of escape.