“Change places,” is the reply, calmly but hurriedly made. “Give me the oars! Quick!”
While speaking she has started up from the stern, and is making for ’midships. The other, comprehending, has risen at the same instant, leaving the oars to trail.
By this the roughs have shoved off from the bank, and are making for mid-stream, their purpose evident—to intercept the Gwendoline. But the other Gwendoline has now got settled to the oars; and pulling with all her might, has still a chance to shoot past them.
In a few seconds the boats are but a couple of lengths apart, the heavy craft coming bow-on for the lighter; while the faces of those in her, slewed over their shoulders, show terribly forbidding. A glance tells Gwen Wynn ’twould be idle making appeal to them; nor does she. Still she is not silent. Unable to restrain her indignation, she calls out—
“Keep back, fellows! If you run against us, ’twill go ill for you. Don’t suppose you’ll escape punishment.”
“Bah!” responds one, “we an’t a-frightened at yer threats—not we. That an’t the way wi’ us Forest chaps. Besides, we don’t mean ye any much harm. Only gi’e us a kiss all round, an’ then—maybe, we’ll let ye go.”
“Yes; kisses all round!” cries another. “That’s the toll ye’re got to pay at our pike; an’ a bit o’ squeeze by way o’ boot.”
The coarse jest elicits a peal of laughter from the other three. Fortunately for those who are its butt, since it takes the attention of the rowers from their oars, and before they can recover a stroke or two lost—the pleasure-boat glides past them, and goes dancing on, as did the fishing skiff.
With a yell of disappointment they bring their boat’s head round, and row after; now straining at their oars with all strength. Luckily, they lack skill; which, fortunately for herself, the rower of the pleasure-boat possesses. It stands her in stead now, and, for a time, the Gwendoline leads without losing ground. But the struggle is unequal—four to one—strong men, against a weak woman! Verily is she called on to make good her words, when saying she could row almost as ably as a man.
And so does she for a time. Withal it may not avail her. The task is too much for her woman’s strength, fast becoming exhausted. While her strokes grow feebler, those of the pursuers seem to get stronger. For they are in earnest now; and, despite the bad management of their boat, it is rapidly gaining on the other.