"Now for it, sir," he said. "Jump in."
Todd did so, and the younger waterman followed him. He and his aged companion immediately took their places, and Todd stretched himself in the stern of the little craft.
The rain now came down in absolute torrents as the boat was pushed off by the two watermen into the middle of the stream.
CHAPTER CLX.
THE POLICE-GALLEY ON THE THAMES.
What an anxious and protracted glance Todd cast around him when he found that he was fairly upon the river. How his eyes, with fox-like cunning, glistening like two lead-coloured stars, were here, and there, and everywhere, in the course of a few moments. Then he contrived to speak, as he thought, craftily enough.
"There are but few boats on the river."
"No, sir," said the young waterman. "It isn't everybody that cares to come on the water in such weather as this."
"No—no. But I have business."
"Exactly so, sir. That's it."
"Yes," added Todd, in quite a contemplative tone of voice, "the fact is, that I have just heard that at Gravesend there resides a family, with whom I was once intimate, but had lost sight of. They have, as I hear, dropped into poverty, amounting to destitution, and I could not rest until I had gone after them to relieve them."