“Hallo, Ben!”
“Why, wot—is’t you, Bill? Well, now, if I didn’t take ’e for a Mounseer!”
Before more could be said a boat was observed rowing close past them. Ben hailed it.
“Ho!” cried a voice, as the men rested on their oars and listened.
“Lend a hand, shipmates,” cried Ben, “on yer port bow.”
The oars were dipped at once, the boat ranged up, and the two men were assisted into it.
“It’s all well as ends well, as I’ve heerd the play-actors say,” observed Ben Bolter, as he shook the water from his garments. “I say, lads, what ship do you belong to?”
“Ve has de honair to b’long to Le Guillaume Tell,” replied one of the men.
“Hallo, Bill!” whispered Ben, “it’s a French boat, an’ we’re nabbed. Prisoners o’ war, as sure as my name’s BB! Wot’s to be done?”
“I’ll make a bolt, sink or swim,” whispered our hero.