We took our places; the boatman at the oars, his eyes over his shoulder watching keenly the in-racing seas.
The four dripping culprits looked at each other uncertainly, and one of them started to climb in the boat.
“Well, for God’s sake!” screeched Talbot, and made a headlong bull rush for the man.
The latter tumbled right out of the boat on his back in the shallow water. His three companions fled incontinently up the beach, where he followed them as soon as he could scramble to his feet.
Manuel said something sharply, without looking around.
“Shove!” screeched Talbot. “Pile in, Johnny!”
We bent our backs, The boat resisted, yielded, gathered headway. It seemed to be slipping away from me down a steep hill.
“Jump in!” yelled Talbot.
I gave a mighty heave and fell over the stern into the bottom of the boat. Waters seemed to be crashing by; but by the time I had gathered myself together and risen to my knees, we were outside the line of breakers, and dancing like a gull over the smooth broad surges.
Ships could anchor no nearer than about a mile and a half offshore. By the time we had reached the craft she was surrounded by little boats bobbing and rubbing against her sides. She proved to be one of that very tubby, bluff-bowed type then so commonly in use as whalers and freighters. The decks swarmed black with an excited crowd.