“No, I will not go,” he cried. “That’s what you want—to get rid of me, but you’ve found your match.”
He sprang in so sharply that the boat gave a lurch and freed itself from the bank, gliding off into deep water again; and as Distin resumed his scull, Gilmore waited for it to dip, and then pulled, so that solely by his skill—for Distin was very inexperienced as an oarsman—the boat was kept pretty straight, and they went on up stream in silence.
Macey gazed at Gilmore, who was of course facing him, but he could not look at his friend without seeing Distin too, and to look at the latter meant drawing upon himself a savage glare. So he turned his eyes to Vane, with the result that Distin watched him as if he were certain that he was going to detect some fresh conspiracy.
Macey sighed, and gazed dolefully at the bank, as if he wished that he were ashore.
Vane gazed at the bank too, and thought of his ill luck in being at odds with Distin, and of the many walks he had had along there with his uncle. These memories brought up plenty of pleasant thoughts, and he began to search for different water-plants and chat about them to Macey, who listened eagerly this time for the sake of having something to do.
“Look!” said Vane pointing; “there’s the Stratiotes.”
“What?”
“Stratiotes. The water-soldier.”
“Then he’s a deserter,” said Macey. “Hold hard you two, and let’s arrest him.”
“No, no; go on rowing,” said Vane.