“Pierre,” shouted the boy, in indignant tones, “I know what you’re at, but your plan won’t work. You’ll not get far away with the Banner—mind that!”
Pierre at once left his companion to attend to Bab, and came out into the standing room, eager to secure Eugene, before his loud, angry voice attracted the attention of the brig’s crew. “You will save yourself trouble by clapping a stopper on that jaw of yours,” said he, fiercely. “Come up behind him, Tomlinson, and the rest of you cast off the lines, and get the Banner under way without the loss of a moment.”
“The rest of you let those lines alone,” shouted Eugene. “And Tomlinson, you keep your distance,” he added, springing lightly upon the taffrail as the deserter advanced upon him. “You’ll not take me into that cabin a prisoner.”
“Grab him, Tomlinson!” exclaimed Pierre, “and be quick about it, or you’ll be too late.”
And he was too late, being altogether too slow in his movements to seize so agile a fellow as Eugene. Believing that the boy was fairly cornered and could not escape, the deserter came up very deliberately, and was much surprised to see him raise his hands above his head, and dive out of sight in the harbor. Tomlinson ran quickly to the stern and looked over, but Eugene was far out of his reach, being just in the act of disappearing around the stern of the brig.
“Never mind him,” said Pierre; “he’s gone, and we can’t help it. The next thing is to be gone ourselves, before he gets help and comes back.”
“All clear fore and aft!” cried one of the deserters.
“Shove off, for’ard!” commanded Pierre, seizing the wheel. “Tom, send two men aloft to shake out those topsails.”
In five minutes more the Banner, lying almost on her side, and carrying a huge bone in her teeth, was scudding swiftly away from the wharf toward the opposite side of the harbor.