CHAPTER IX
THE STOPPING OF THE SUPPLY SHIP
Joe crouched low, preparing for a spring. Jean and Raoul did likewise, and not one of them breathed.
"Who goes there?" demanded a rough, stern voice, but the next instant it was silenced, for Joe, throwing himself upon the speaker with a leap like that of a panther, brought him to the ground with his hands at his throat.
But the man lay so motionless in his grip that there was no need to take his life. In falling backward, his head had struck a stone, and he was senseless. As soon as Joe realized this he let go of him, and whispering to his companions:
"Quick—quick—run!" he darted off with them at his heels.
Not trying to pick their steps, they plunged through the darkness as fast as they could, slipping, stumbling, tripping, yet keeping on desperately, for they knew not if the whole camp might not presently be upon their heels.
There was a stir among Charnace's sentinels and a calling to one another, but none of them knew in which direction the fugitives had gone, and after some aimless scurrying about they gave up all idea of pursuit, and settled down to quiet again.
Meanwhile, the three had continued their wild flight until their breath was spent, and then they threw themselves down to recover it.
"All right now," said Joe, nodding complacently. "We see no more of them," and he was quite correct. They were now beyond Charnace's lines, and could pursue their way in a more leisurely fashion. The break of day found them far down the shore and drawing near an encampment of friendly Indians. From these Joe had no difficulty in obtaining a good canoe, and a supply of provisions, and by noon they were out on the Bay of Fundy, watching for the Clement.