“Oh, yes, it is,” I replied. “You’re Captain Chudleigh of the British army, an escaped prisoner, and I’ve come to recapture you.”
“I don’t see how you’re going to do it,” he said.
“I do,” I replied, though, to tell the truth, I had not yet thought of a way to manage the matter, which seemed to present difficulties. In the meantime I confined myself to treading water. Chudleigh did the same.
“That was a dirty trick you played on us back there,” I said, “palming yourself off on us as a guide.”
“I didn’t do it,” he replied in an injured tone. “You’re to blame yourself. You forced me at the pistol’s muzzle.”
He told the truth, I was forced to confess.
“We’ll let that pass,” I said. “Now, will you surrender?”
“Never!” he replied, in manner most determined.
“Then you will force me to a violent recapture,” I said.
“I fail to see how you are going to do it,” he said with much grimness. “If you seize me here in the water, I will seize you, and then we will drown together, which will be very unpleasant for both of us.”