“It’s Danvers!” cried Ethan. “Pull, Shamus!”
They bent to their oars manfully and the jolly-boat shot away from the wharf, just as a shadowy group appeared through the darkness.
“The boat!” cried the voice of Danvers. “It’s gone!”
“There she is, sir,” said a seaman, pointing, “and dowse my tops if your prisoners ain’t in her.”
With an inarticulate cry of rage Danvers whipped out a pistol.
“Stop!” he shouted.
“Pull hard,” said Ethan coolly to Longsword.
“Hard it is,” came the voice of the ex-dragoon, as his powerful arms and shoulders labored at the oars.
Seeing that no attention was paid to his command, Danvers raised his pistol and fired. The flash and report lit and wakened the night; then the ping-g-g of the bullet came to the ears of the two in the boat as it went past them. A series of quick, snapping shots followed as the seamen also discharged their pieces. When the steady splash of the oars in the water told the British emissary that the shots had been ineffective, he shouted in a voice that could be plainly heard by the two rowers:
“Boats! After them!”