“Oh, yes; I row vair fine,” returned the fencing-master, taking up another, and seating himself.
They all took their places, Harrington at the stroke-oar, the blades fell into the water, and the boat turned and shot to the northwestern side of the island. A few minutes’ rowing brought them to the shore, and at the word of command they rested, backing water, and keeping within about ten yards’ distance from the strand. At that moment the lightning blazed, showing them the little beach covered with a mass of huge pebbles, and the steep acclivity just beyond which led to the grassy summit of the island.
A few moments’ discussion ensued, Harrington having suggested that perhaps it would be better to make the attack by rowing up to the boat of the kidnappers, instead of going across the island as he had intended. Presently it was decided to carry out the original plan, as if the guard saw a boat approaching, he might summon his fellows, and thus necessitate a conflict.
“Now, friends, attention,” said Harrington. “Captain, take my oar.”
The Captain who sat by his side with one oar, took the other, and Harrington stepping past the other two, turned and faced them all.
“Listen,” said he. “I am now going on shore to reconnoitre, which can be best done by one person. If there is only one man in the boat, I can easily handle him. If there are more, I will return and we will all go up together; for though I am loth to imperil your lives, we must not put success at hazard. Stay here, and wait for me. On no account leave the boat, till I come to you. Remember now, for if you come on shore when I have left you, it may cost me my life. Bagasse, I trust you, old soldier, to see that I am obeyed.”
He uttered the last sentence in French, that Bagasse might not mistake him.
“It shall be so, my captain, since you command it,” returned the Frenchman, in the same language.
“Good,” said Harrington. “Now row me in.”
They bent to the oars in silence, and with one stroke the boat shot in five yards, and with a vigorous leap from the prow, Harrington sprang the other five, landed safely, and ran swiftly up the acclivity. The lightning blazed as he reached the summit, and they saw him sink down. The next instant the darkness fell with a peal of thunder, and he had vanished. So thick was the night, that he could not be seen after the lightning failed.