It was only a question of a few moments with me; we were crawling slowly upstream, the tide beating against us as though in league with Dunraven, and eager to hold us back. It seemed to me that I had rowed always; that I had done naught from my birth but tug with bleeding hands at some heavy oar against the belated tide.
My mind was a blank; I had forgotten all else, save that we must pull three miles in one short hour, or Bobby was lost. In all broad England there was no spot where he could safely lay his head, for the Queen would punish with iron hand one who dared to beard her in her palace, and to pluck from the very gallows a felon whom she had doomed to die.
And so I pulled as though an empire hung upon my efforts. How much longer would this last? Half-past four, and we had pulled a little over a mile, and must rest. Fastening my oar, I threw myself flat upon the bottom of the boat. Bobby fell beside me, and with throbbing hearts we lay there.
Every breath that I drew gave me pain; a mist came before my eyes; the world seemed to whirl and circle in a mad dance about me; the river sucking at the boat seemed to my fevered brain to be a thing of life; the dark trees upon the banks seemed to beckon to me, as though a company of cloaked monks.
Afar down the east, a light streak was beginning to broaden, the sun was about to rise. Aboard the vessel all was bustle and hurry; they were preparing to hoist sail, and at the thought I tottered to my feet, and bent once more to the oar. By hard work we made another mile; it was five o'clock now, and we were still some distance from the ship. There was no use to work longer.
"Bobby," I muttered weakly, "the ship must have gone—let us rest."
"No," he answered, "pull! It will wait for us a moment—pull, man! we may yet reach it," and he redoubled his efforts.
I bent again to the oar, though it seemed as though my exhausted arms would wrench from their sockets at each stroke. Around me danced the river; the roar of the ocean was in my ears; little specks of fire glimmered in front of my very eyes. How long was a mile?—a mile—a mile—I had forgotten why we rowed so madly, I only knew that something terrible would befall us did we not reach a place, I knew not where, by five o'clock.
Bobby was speaking:
"It is past five o'clock now, and we are nearly there."