A slight touch woke the Greek, but it required a severe shaking to rouse Sir Arthur.
"Waiter, a deviled kidney and a pint of Pommery Sec," he cried drowsily, as Chutney pulled him to a sitting position. And then opening his eyes he groaned dismally, "Bless me, I thought I was dining at Gatti's. Why didn't you let me sleep?"
CHAPTER XXVII.
ALL HOPE VANISHES.
"We are approaching the outlet of the lake, Sir Arthur," said Guy. "It is better that all should be awake in case we encounter bad water."
"Yes, yes; very true. You want me to hold the torch, I suppose. Gad! what a dream I had! I was dining with Lord Balsover. I'd give my title and fortune to be back in London this minute."
"Hold your torch straight," said the colonel dryly, and then under the regular strokes of four paddles the canoe moved swiftly toward the distant sound of running water.
Every instant it grew louder and more distinct, and soon their voices were almost drowned in the roar.
It was a period of terrible anxiety. That it was the outlet of the lake they were approaching no one for an instant doubted. Their chief concern was for a safe passage into the river beyond, for the angry splash of the water told plainly its turbulent and dangerous nature.
"Keep a little off from the shore," cried Guy. "It won't do to make too sharp a curve or we shall upset. We must strike the current fairly in the center and keep the canoe straight as an arrow. Whatever happens, don't drop the torch," he added warningly.