Ryecroft, with a cigar between his teeth, dreamily thinking of a boat with people in it so dissimilar, simply signifies assent with a nod.
But soon he is roused from his reverie, at hearing an exclamation louder than common, followed by words whose import concerns himself and his companion. These are:—
“Dang it, lads! le’s goo in for a bit o’ a lark! Yonner be a boat coomin’ down wi’ two chaps in ’t; some o’ them spick-span city gents! S’pose we gie ’em a capsize?”
“Le’s do it! Le’s duck ’em!” shouted the others, assentingly; he with the bottle dropping it into the boat’s bottom, and laying hold of an oar instead.
All act likewise, for it is a four-oared craft that carries them; and in a few seconds’ time they are rowing it straight for that of the angler’s.
With astonishment, and fast gathering indignation, the Hussar officer sees the heavy barge coming bow-on for his light fishing skiff, and is thoroughly sensible of the danger; the waterman becoming aware of it at the same instant of time.
“They mean mischief,” mutters Wingate; “what’d we best do, Captain? If you like I can keep clear, and shoot the Mary past ’em—easy enough.”
“Do so,” returns the salmon fisher, with the cigar still between his teeth—but now held bitterly tight, almost to biting off the stump. “You can keep on!” he adds, speaking calmly, and with an effort to keep down his temper; “that will be the best way, as things stand now. They look like they’d come up from below; and, if they show any ill manners at meeting, we can call them to account on return. Don’t concern yourself about your course. I’ll see to the steering. There! hard on the starboard oar!”
This last, as the two boats have arrived within less than three lengths of one another. At the same time Ryecroft, drawing tight the port tiller-cord, changes course suddenly, leaving just sufficient sea-way for his oarsman to shave past, and avoid the threatened collision.
Which is done the instant after—to the discomfiture of the would-be capsizers. As the skiff glides lightly beyond their reach, dancing over the river swell, as if in triumph and to mock them, they drop their oars, and send after it a chorus of yells, mingled with blasphemous imprecations.