"Mark yon pennon," replied Gripwell, pointing to a fluttering streamer at the masthead. "So long as that keeps ahead and the wind holds true, all will be well. 'Tis a wide mark from Dover to the Wight, and it matters little at what part we touch."
Throughout the short June night the lads remained on deck, dozing at intervals in spite of their lengthy rest in the rye-field hard by the village of St. Valery, yet filled with joy at the thought that they were being borne rapidly homewards.
At length the day dawned. Eagerly Gripwell scanned the horizon, but to his great satisfaction not a sail broke the sky-line. The low white cliffs of France, too, had vanished beneath the encircling rim of trackless sea.
In the growing light the adventurers were able to make a thorough inspection of the stolen craft. Anxious to husband their scanty stores, Gripwell hoped to find some kind of provisions on board. Accordingly he handed the helm to Oswald, and telling Geoffrey to explore the after cuddy, he clambered forward to investigate the contents of the place that did duty for the forepeak.
Placing his hands upon the coamings of the little hatch Geoffrey lowered himself into the dark recesses of the cuddy. Bewildered by the sudden transition from daylight to almost pitch darkness, he stood upon the floor, his shoulders bent to save his head from contact with the low deck-beams, waiting till his eyes became accustomed to the gloom.
An unexpected lurch of the little craft caused him to lose his balance, and the next instant he was thrown violently against the side of the cuddy. Struggling to regain his balance Geoffrey thrust out his hands, and to his utter astonishment his fingers closed upon the throat of a human being.
Ere the lad could realize his position he was seized in a powerful grip, and, beyond a strangled shout from his unseen antagonist, the two silently engaged in a desperate struggle. Interlocked in an unyielding grip they swayed to and fro, each adversary trying to bend the back of his antagonist.
Attracted by the scuffling Arnold came running aft. In his haste he had forgotten to bring his arms, and well it was that this was the case, for on gaining the hatchway he could only perceive two unrecognizable struggling forms.
Cold steel would have been equally dangerous to friend or foe. All that Gripwell could do was to lie full length on the deck, ready with outstretched arm to aid the English lad the moment he could be sure of him.
In spite of the obvious disadvantage of being attacked in unfamiliar surroundings Geoffrey stoutly maintained his own, but the strength and endurance of his unseen foe seemed inexhaustible. At length the lad bethought him of a trick taught him by one of the archers of the garrison of the Castle of Warblington many months agone.