Gascoyne now proceeded leisurely to strip off his shirt, thereby displaying a chest, back, and arms in which the muscles were developed to an extent that might have made Hercules himself envious. Kicking off his boots, he reduced his clothing to a pair of loose knee-breeches.
“’Tis a strange time to indulge in a cold bath!” murmured Thorwald, whose state of surprise was beginning to render him desperately ironical.
Gascoyne took no notice of this remark, but calling Corrie to his side, said—
“Can you swim, boy?”
“Yes, like a duck.”
“Can you distinguish the stern of the schooner?”
“I can.”
“Listen, then. When you see a white sheet waved over the taffrail, throw off your jacket and shirt and swim out to the schooner. D’ye understand?”
“Perfectly,” replied the boy, whose decision of manner and action grew with the occasion.
“And now, Mr Thorwald,” said Gascoyne, “I shall swim off to the schooner. If, as I expect, the men are on shore in a place that I wot of and with which you have nothing to do, well and good, I will send a boat for you with muffled oars—but, mark you, let there be no noise in embarking or in getting aboard the schooner. If, on the other hand, the men are aboard, I will bring a boat to you myself, in which case silence will not be so necessary, and your fighting powers shall be put to the proof.”