“Now,” said Jimmy, “we’re on the dead-line; even if we could get into Antwerp, it’s ten to one that we couldn’t get out, and so what’s the use of getting in?”
“But I’d rather take the chances of getting out of this wasp’s nest by water than by attempting to break through any more wholesale killings on the land.”
That was Billy’s view. He was war-worn.
“But we’re going back by water,” assured Jimmy, “only it won’t have to be exactly from Antwerp. I’ve voyaged several times to Flushing—that’s in The Netherlands, you know—and once among the Dutch, and in the Scheldt river. I know a trick or two to get out on the North Sea.”
“You’re the captain on this trip,” conceded Henri; “if we can’t sail from Antwerp, let’s push along anywhere, so long as it’s up-coast, even to The Hague. Once in neutral territory, some of our troubles are over.”
“‘Some’ is the way to put it, Henri,” remarked Billy, “for if you had said ‘all our troubles’ I’d think you were figuring on our final rest at the bottom of the sea.”
“Well, it’s just this way,” continued Jimmy. “I believe I know a route, rounding Antwerp on the east, that will take us out of fighting ground, and in the town of Santvlieto, on the Scheldt, I have a friend who is mate on a trade vessel, regularly running between Flushing and the channel. I feel sure that he is home, for there are so many mines planted in the North Sea now that it isn’t safe to risk anything that isn’t insured to the limit.”
“But isn’t Santvlieto quite a way up the river from Flushing?” asked Henri, who knew something of the coast line near Antwerp.
“Easy distance in a boat,” advised Jimmy. “I’ve been up and down several times with my friend.”
“Let’s take the matter up with the colonel,” suggested Billy.