“Is it possible they may come in pursuit?” whispered the doctor.
“Nay, sir, I don’t think it’s likely. If it was us aboard those schooners we should think that we—meaning us—there, sir—you know what I mean—we should think t’other side was making for the sea. Well, that’s what they think, and now, sir, if they’ll only show their lights for the rest of the night, why, so much the better for we.”
“I don’t see why, Joe,” said Rodd, after a few minutes’ thought.
“Well, I’ll tell you, my lad,” whispered Joe.—“Steady there—steady! I am going to lower down the grapnel, for I dursen’t run in among the trees. They’d crackle too much if we tried to moor to a branch, and we don’t want to capsize. Harry Briggs, look alive, and drop the flukes overboard; make fast, and let us swing.”
This was all done almost without a sound, and just then a faint gleam of light as the boat swung round showed them that certainly one of the anchored vessels was still showing her light, while as it swung round a little farther there were a couple more gleams higher up, as of distant stars.
“That’s all right, gentlemen. Now, Mr Rodd, sir, I haven’t answered your question. Here’s just enough breeze blowing to make me alter my plans, so after a bit we’ll step the mast again and have the sail ready for hoisting, for we shall be able, with the lights to guide us, to sail close up under the farther shore and come down again from just the way they don’t expect, run the boat alongside our schooner, and then one on us will hold on by the boat-hook, while with the rest it’s all aboard, and the schooner’s ours.”
That night seemed to Rodd almost as long, at times longer than the one he had passed in the tree. But here it certainly was shorter, as he afterwards declared, for about a couple of hours before daylight Joe whispered his belief that they had none of them heard the slightest sound from the direction of the lights, that if any one on board the schooner’s deck would be sleeping it would be then, and that they must start at once.
There was no question of all being ready, and at the whispered orders Harry Briggs hauled softly upon the grapnel line, while very slowly and silently the yard ran up the little mast, and the boat began to careen over as the sail filled.
Then with Joe Cross at the tiller she began to glide up-stream, the grapnel was lifted on board without a sound, and silently and steadily they began to cross the river diagonally till they were as near as the steersman dared lay the little craft to the farther shore.
Under his skilful management all went well, and so silently that nothing but the faint pattering lap of the water against the bows could be heard.