“Then you’re willing to go with us, are you?” said Jack.
“Yis, I am willing to go.”
“And you’re not afraid to trust yourself out on the deep sea so far?”
“No, I not ’fraid to go. Safe with Christian.”
After some further consultation, the teacher suggested that it was time to return, so we bade Avatea good night, and having appointed to meet at the cliff where the canoe lay, on the following night, just after dark, we hastened away—we to row on board the schooner with muffled oars—Avatea to glide back to her prison-hut among the Mango savages.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
The flight—The pursuit—Despair and its results—The lion bearded in his den again—Awful danger threatened and wonderfully averted—A terrific storm.
As the time for our meditated flight drew near, we became naturally very fearful lest our purpose should be discovered, and we spent the whole of the following day in a state of nervous anxiety. We resolved to go a-shore and ramble about the village, as if to observe the habits and dwellings of the people, as we thought that an air of affected indifference to the events of the previous day would be more likely than any other course of conduct to avert suspicion as to our intentions. While we were thus occupied, the teacher remained on board with the Christian natives, whose powerful voices reached us ever and anon as they engaged in singing hymns or in prayer.
At last the long and tedious day came to a close, the sank into the sea, and the short-lived twilight of those regions, to which I have already referred, ended abruptly in a dark night. Hastily throwing a few blankets into our little boat, we stepped into it, and, whispering farewell to the natives in the schooner, rowed gently over the lagoon, taking care to keep as near to the beach as possible. We rowed in the utmost silence and with muffled oars, so that had any one observed us at the distance of a few yards, he might have almost taken us for a phantom-boat or a shadow on the dark water. Not a breath of air was stirring; but fortunately the gentle ripple of the sea upon the shore, mingled with the soft roar of the breaker on the distant reef, effectually drowned the slight plash that we unavoidably made in the water by the dipping of our oars.
Quarter of an hour sufficed to bring us to the over-hanging cliff under whose black shadow our little canoe lay, with her bow in the water ready to be launched, and most of her cargo already stowed away. As the keel of our little boat grated on the sand, a hand was laid upon the bow, and a dim form was seen.