The boat was a large one, half-decked, and fitted to stand a heavy sea and rough weather. It would have moved sluggishly through the water had not the four men who pulled the oars been possessed of more than average strength. As soon as they passed the barrier reef, the sails were hoisted, and Dick took the helm. The breeze was blowing fresh off the land, and the water rushed past the boat as she cut swiftly out to sea, leaving a track of white foam behind her. For a few minutes the mass of the island was dimly seen rising like a huge shade on the dark sky, but soon it melted away, and nothing remained for the straining eyes to rest upon save the boat with its silent crew and the curling foam on the black sea.
"We've got him safe now, lads," said Dick Price, speaking for the first time that night in unguarded tones. "You'd better do the deed. The sooner it's done the better."
While he was speaking, one of the three men opened a large clasp-knife, and advanced towards Gascoyne.
"Father," said Henry, cutting the rope that bound him, "you are free at last!"
Gascoyne started; but before he had time to utter the exclamation of surprise that sprang to his lips, his hand was seized by the muffled figure that sat at his side.
"O, Gascoyne! forgive us—forgive me!" said Mary Stuart, in a trembling voice. "I did, indeed, know something of what they meant to do, but I knew nothing of the cruel violence that these bonds—"
"Violence!" cried Dick Price. "I put it to yourself, Mister Gascoyne, if I didn't treat ye as if ye wos a lamb?"
"Wot a blissin it is for a man to git his mouth open agin, and let his breath go free," cried Jo Bumpus, with a deep sigh. "Come, Corrie, give us a cheer—hip! hip! hip!—"
The cheer that followed was stirring, and wonderfully harmonious; for it was given in a deep bass and a shrill treble, with an intermediate baritone "Ho!" from Jakolu.
"I know it, Mary—I know it," said Gascoyne; and there was a slight tremor in his deep voice as he drew his wife towards him, and laid her head upon his breast.