“Try to keep ahead of her,” answered Bill, glancing round for a moment. “The Frenchmen may not think it worth while to chase us far, even if they are in chase of us, and that’s not certain. Don’t let us cry out before we are hurt. Get out the oars, they’ll help us on a little, and we’ll do our best to escape. I don’t fancy being shut up again, or perhaps being carried off to a prison, and forced into a dungeon, or maybe shot, for they’ll declare that we are escaped prisoners.”
Jack did not, however, require these remarks to make him pull with all his might; still he could not help looking back occasionally. He was standing up, it should be understood, rowing forward, with the oars crossing, the larboard oar held in the right hand, and the starboard in the left.
“The boat’s coming on three knots to our one,” he cried out. “It won’t take her long to be up with us.”
“Pull away,” again cried Bill. “We’ll hold on till the Frenchmen begin to fire. If their bullets come near us, it will be time to think whether it will be worth running the risk of being shot.”
Jack continued to row with might and main, and the raft went wonderfully fast over the water. It was too evident, however, that the boat was in pursuit of them, and in a few minutes a musket ball splashed into the water a short distance astern of the raft.
“That shows that they are in earnest,” said Jack. “We had better lower the sail, another might come aboard us.”
“Hold all fast, perhaps they are getting tired of chasing us, and may give it up when they see that we are determined to get away,” replied Bill; not that he had much hope that this was the case, but he stuck to the principle of not giving in as long as there was a chance of escape.
Jack had plenty of courage, but he did not like being fired at without the means of returning the compliment.
Another shot from the boat came whistling close to them.
“It’s of no use,” cried Jack, “we must lower the sail.”