Bill had not failed to observe the shape of the harbour, and to take note of the various objects on shore, as he and Jack were brought in prisoners by the French boat; but the partial survey he was then able to make did not enable him to settle positively in what direction they ought to proceed to find their raft.
By keeping on as they were then going they believed that they should make the shore of the harbour at no great distance from the mouth. They might then keep along up it until they reached the place where they landed, near which they hoped to find their raft moored.
“I am only afraid that we may meet some guards or patrols, or fishermen coming on shore or going off to their vessels,” observed Jack.
“If we do we must try to hide ourselves,” answered Bill. “We’ll keep along as close as we can under the cliffs, or any walls or houses we are passing, so that we may see people before we are seen ourselves.”
They acted as Bill suggested, and pushed boldly onwards. Not a sound was heard coming either from the land side or from the harbour. The water was as smooth as glass.
They were still going forward when Jack seized Bill’s arm. “That’s the place,” he whispered. “I can make out the raft, moored outside a boat at the end of a slip.”
Bill, creeping forward, assured himself that Jack was right, and, as nothing could be gained by waiting a moment, they hurried on, and in a few seconds were on board their raft. Jack plunged his hand into one of the chests, to ascertain that the articles it had contained were still there. They had not been taken away.
He could scarcely refrain from shouting out for joy.
Even the oars had not been removed.
They got another from the boat alongside to supply the place of the one which had been splintered.