“I would, if I could,” answered Tom, as hastily as possible.
“Halt, or I’ll fire!”
“I tell you I can’t halt,” replied Tom, using his paddle vigorously, as though he was trying to urge the bateau to the shore. “Don’t fire! For mercy’s sake, don’t fire.”
Tom appeared to be intensely frightened at the situation in which he was placed, and redoubled his efforts apparently to gain the bank of the stream; but the more he seemed to paddle one way, the more the boat went the other way. However much Tom appeared to be terrified by the peril that menaced him, it must be confessed that he was not wholly unmoved.
“Stop your boat, quick!” said the soldier, who had partially dropped his musket from its menacing position.
“I can’t stop it,” responded Tom, apparently in an agony of terror. “I would go ashore if I could.”
“What’s the matter?”
“The water runs so swift, I can’t stop her; been trying this two hours.”
“You will be inside the Yankee lines in half an hour if you don’t fetch to,” shouted the picket.
“Gracious!” exclaimed Tom, redoubling his efforts.