Dick Morgan was the only man who could answer it: he replied that he had last set eyes on him while trying to induce the blacks to return to the dhow.
“Have they killed him, do you think?” asked Charley, in a tone which showed his anxiety.
“Can’t say, sir; but if not, it is more than likely that those Arab fellows have got hold of him, and I’m afraid they’ll not be treating him over well.”
Just then, however, there was no time to make further inquiries. The first thing to be done was to get out of reach of the Arabs’ matchlocks.
Rhymer gave the word to shove off, and the boat pulled away from the bank. He was vexed at the utter failure of the enterprise, and the blame which might be attributed to him for the loss of Ned. He might still, however, destroy the dhow. The Arabs, well aware of the long range of the boat’s gun, were still keeping at a distance. There would be time to get up to the dhow and to set her on fire. Rhymer accordingly steered in where she lay, with the boat’s gun ready to send a shot into the midst of any party who might venture to show themselves. Almost before the Arabs were aware of what was intended, the boat was up to the dhow, matches had been got ready, and the seamen springing on board, in less than a minute had set her on fire fore and aft. The combustible materials with which she was fitted quickly blazed up, and her destruction was inevitable. The men leapt back into the boat, which now pulled away out of gun-shot into the middle of the stream.
“Surely we are not to leave Garth without going to look for him!” exclaimed Charley. “Perhaps he may be hiding himself somewhere, and will, when the Arabs retire, make his way down to the margin of the river expecting to be taken off.”
“Very little chance of that; but, depend on it, I’ll not show my face on board without him if I can help it,” answered Rhymer.
Charley was obliged to be content with this promise. As he watched the shore through his telescope he could see the Arabs collecting the unfortunate slaves and driving them on before them, though he in vain searched for Ned among the former. Had he been made a prisoner he would probably have been seen. This made him hope that he might still be recovered. At length Rhymer began to grow impatient. The last of the slaves had been carried off, and the Arabs themselves had disappeared behind the hill. Charley now entreated Rhymer to pull in for the shore. “If you will let me I will land with any of the men who will volunteer, and we will search round in every direction for Garth; he may possibly have been wounded, and have crawled under some bushes to hide himself from the Arabs.”
Rhymer hesitated. “If I let you go you may be caught also, and I shall have to report the loss of two midshipmen instead of one.”
“O no, no! Do let me go!” cried Charley, in a beseeching tone. “The Arabs have gone away, and we will keep a good look-out not to be surprised. I am sure that some of the men will be ready to go with me.”