Chapter Seventeen.
A narrow escape—The fugitives picked up by a frigate.
The rest Jack and Bill had obtained while their raft was under sail enabled them to row with as much vigour as at first; and row they did with might and main, knowing that their liberty might depend upon their exertions.
The calm was very trying, for they had expected to be wafted quickly across the Channel, and row as hard as they could, their progress must be slow. After rowing for a couple of hours or more, they found themselves apparently no nearer the ship ahead than they had been at first.
At length hunger compelled them to lay in their oars and take some breakfast. They ate a hearty one, for they had plenty of provisions; but on examining their stock of water they found that they must be very economical, or they might run short of that necessary of life.
After a short rest, Bill sprang to his feet.
“It won’t do to be stopping,” he observed. “If we only make a couple of miles an hour it will be something, and we shall be so much nearer home, and so much farther away from the French shore.”
“I’m afraid that when the mounseers find out that we have escaped, they will be sending after us,” said Jack. “They will be ashamed of being outwitted by a couple of English boys, and will do all they can to bring us back.”
“I believe you are right, Jack,” replied Bill; “only, as they certainly will not be able to see us from the shore, they won’t know in what direction to pull, and may fancy that we are hid away somewhere along the coast.”