Scarce had they proceeded a dozen steps when a shout heard from behind caused them to come to a sudden stop.
“Avast there!” cried a voice that seemed to rise from out of the depths of the sea.
“It’s Bill!” exclaimed all three in the same breath.
“’Old on, my hearties, if that’s yerselves that I see!” continued the voice. “Arrah, ’old on there. I’m so tired wadin’, I want a short spell to rest myself. Wait now, and I’ll come to yez as soon as I can take a reef out of my tops’ls.”
The joy caused by this greeting, great as it was, was scarce equal to the surprise it inspired. They who heard it were for some seconds incredulous. The sound of the sailor’s voice, well-known as it was, with something like the figure of a human being dimly seen through the uncertain mist that shadowed the surface of the water, was proof that he still lived; while, but the moment before, there appeared substantial proof that he must have gone to the bottom. Their incredulity even continued till more positive evidence to the contrary came before them, in the shape of the old man-o’-war’s-man himself; who, rapidly splashing through the more shallow water, in a few seconds stood face to face with the three brave boys whom he had so lately urged to abandon him.
“Bill, is it you?” cried all three in a breath.
“Auch! and who else would yez expect it to be? Did yez take me for ould Neptune risin’ hout of the say? Or did yez think I was a mare-maid? Gee mee a grip o’ yer wee fists, ye bonny boys. Ole Bill warn’t born to be drowned!”
“But how did ye come, Bill? The tide’s been rising ever since we left you.”
“Oh!” said Terence, “I see how it is; the bay isn’t so deep after all: you’ve waded all the way.”
“Avast there, master Terry! not half the way, though I’ve waded part of it. There’s wather between here and where you left me deep enough to drown Phil Macool. I didn’t crass the bay by wading at all, at all.”