"A sailor's head guesses right first time," was his answer. "There is a road under the sea from here to Czerny's doorstep. I'm waiting to know if it's on or back. You know the risks and are not children. Say that you turn it up and we'll all go back together, or stay here as wisdom dictates. But it's for you to speak———"
We answered him all together, though Peter Bligh was the first he heard.
"The lodgings here being free and no charge for extras," said Peter, sagely.
And Dolly Venn, he said:
"We are five, at any rate. I don't suppose they would murder us. After all, Edmond Czerny is a gentleman."
"Who shoots the poor sailormen that's wrecked on his shore;" put in Seth Barker, doggedly.
"He'd be of the upper classes, no doubt;" added Peter Bligh; "he'll see that we don't sleep in damp sheets! Aye, 'tis the devil of a man, surely!"
Doctor Gray heard them patiently—more patiently than I did—and then went on again:
"If you stop here, you starve; if you go on—well, you take your luck. Should the fog lift up yonder, you'll be having Czerny back again. It's a rule-of-three sum, gentlemen. For my part, I say 'go on and take your luck,' but I won't speak for you unless you are willing."
"None more willing," cried I, coming to a resolution on the spot. "Forward let it be, and luck go with us. We'd be fools to die like rats in a trap when there's light and food not a mile away. And cowards, too, boys—cowards!" I added.