Burgoyne did nothing of the sort. It was one thing to exchange shots in hot blood with a criminal; another to strike a human being down in cold blood.
Strogoff saw the Englishman's hesitation and took his chance. Wading waist-deep, he began swimming for the schooner, which was lying at anchor less than four hundred yards distant.
"Don't fire!" cautioned Alwyn.
"Don't mean to," rejoined Peter, snapping the safety-catch of his rifle.
"Launch the boat," continued Burgoyne. "We'll nab him long before he gains the schooner."
It was a man-hunt with a vengeance. The excitement of the chase provided far greater scope than merely shooting the swimmer through the head. To effect a capture appealed to their sporting instincts. Taking human life, or any animal life for that matter, did not, unless there were ample justification for it.
"What are you going to do with him?" asked Peter, when by the united efforts of the three men the boat was launched and the oars manned.
"Maroon him on the island," replied Burgoyne grimly. "He'll have the same chances as we did, anyway, and if he wins through——"
He stopped suddenly, let go the tiller, and sprang to his feet.
"Your rifle—quick, Peter!" he exclaimed hurriedly.