The last time we saw the Sylph she was hiding in the creek a short distance below Mayville. That was a week ago, and her persevering and determined pursuers had but just come up with her. During the day the deserters purchased a small supply of provisions from the neighboring farmers, fished a little, slept a good deal, and when darkness came to conceal their movements they got under way again, and stood down the river, taking the stolen dory with them. At daylight they found another hiding-place, and before dawn the next morning they ran by Oxford, a bustling little city situated at the mouth of the river. If they were pursued they did not know it. They made cautious inquiries as often as they had opportunity, but no one could give them any information, because Captain Mack and his men had escaped observation by going from Bridgeport to Oxford on the cars.
When the Sylph ran out into the bay, the deserters began to feel perfectly safe. They shouted and sung themselves hoarse, and told one another that they were seeing no end of sport; but in their hearts they knew better. How was their cruise going to end? was the unwelcome question that forced itself into their minds every hour in the day, and none of them could answer it satisfactorily. It might be a daring exploit to run off with a private yacht, but they didn’t think so now that the mischief was done, and there was not one among them who did not wish that he had taken some other way to get out of the academy. Enoch very soon became disgusted. The wind being brisk he was obliged to be at the wheel nearly all the time, and he couldn’t see the fun of working so steadily while the rest of the band were lying around doing nothing.
“I’ll tell you what’s a fact,” said he to Jones, one day. “There’s too much of a sameness about this thing to suit me. I have the best notion in the world to desert the yacht the next time we go ashore, and strike a straight course for home.”
“I have been thinking seriously of the same thing,” answered Jones.
“It’s a cowardly thing to do,” continued Enoch, “but when I fall to thinking of the settlement that’s coming, I can’t sleep, it troubles me so. Suppose the man who owns this yacht is one who can’t take a joke! Do you know that we have rendered ourselves liable to something worse than expulsion from the academy?”
“I didn’t think of that until it was too late,” said Jones.
“Neither did I; nor did I think to ask myself what my father would say and do about it. I believe our best plan would be to go back and put the schooner in her berth. It will take us four or five days to do that, and during that time each fellow can decide for himself how he will act when we get to Bridgeport—whether he will go home, or return to the academy and face the music.”
“That’s a good idea,” exclaimed Jones. “I know what I shall do. I shall get into camp, if I can, without being caught, and report for duty. Let’s all do that, and if we return the schooner in as good order as she was when we found her, we shall escape the disgrace of being sent down, and at the same time have the satisfaction of knowing that we have done something that no other crowd ever attempted. After we get home we can tell our fathers that we don’t want to come back to school, and perhaps we can induce them to listen to us. That fight with the mob will be in our favor, for after our folks have had time to think it over calmly, they’ll not willingly put us in the way of getting into another. That’s the best plan, and you may depend upon it.”
“I think so myself,” said Enoch. “Call the boys aft and ask them what they think about it.”
It is hardly necessary to say that the runaways were delighted with the prospect of escaping the consequences of their folly. Their cruise among the islands of the bay had been almost entirely devoid of interest. It is true that they had raided a few melon-patches and corn-fields, and that a little momentary excitement had been occasioned by the discovery of suspicious sails behind them; but their foraging had been accomplished with small difficulty and without detection, and the sails belonged to coasters which held their course without paying any attention to the schooner. Without giving Jones, who did the talking, time to enter fully into an explanation, the deserters broke into cheers, and some of them urged the captain to turn the schooner’s bow toward Oxford at once.