The Adventures of Don Lavington Part 56

"No."

"I do. I'm as dry as sawdus'. S'pose we're nearly there, but I can't touch bottom. I tried just now."

They swam on, with the lights of the boat farther off than ever, and the s.h.i.+p more distant still.

"Getting tired, Jem?"

"N-no. Could go on for about another week. Are you?"

"My clothes seem so heavy. Can you see the sh.o.r.e?"

"I can see the beach right afore us, but can't tell how nigh it is.

Never mind about your clothes, my lad; but they're a great noosance at a time like this. Take your strokes long, and slow as you can."

"That's what I'm doing, Jem, but--do you think it's much further?"

"Now, lookye here, Mas' Don; if ever there was a good-tempered chap it was--I mean is--Jem Wimble; but if you gets talking like that, you aggravates me to such a degree that I must speak."

Jem spoke angrily, and with unwonted excitement in his manner.

"Is it much furder, indeed? Why, of course it arn't. Swim steady, and wait."

Jem closed in as much as was possible after raising himself in the water, and scanning the distant sh.o.r.e; and as he did so a cold chill of dread--not on his own account--ran through him, for he felt that they were certainly no nearer sh.o.r.e than they were before.

"Throw your left shoulder a little more forward, Mas' Don," he said calmly; "there's a p'int runs out here, I think, as'll make the journey shorter."

Don obeyed in silence, and they swam on, with Jem watchfully keeping his eyes upon his companion, who was now deeper in the water.

"Jem," said Don, suddenly.

"Yes, Mas' Don. Take it coolly, my lad. We're getting close there.

Oh, what a lie!" he added to himself, with a chill of misery unnerving him.

"Jem."

"Ay, ay, Mas' Don."

"If you escape--"

"If I escape!" whispered Jem, angrily. "Now, what's the use o' your talking like that? Escape, indeed! Why, I feel as if I could live in the water, if I had plenty to eat and drink."

"Listen to me," said Don, hoa.r.s.ely. "If you escape, tell my mother I always loved her, even when I was obstinate. Tell her we didn't run away, and that--that I didn't take that money, Jem. You'll tell her that?"

"I won't tell her nor n.o.body else nothing of the sort," said Jem. "I'm too busy swimming to think o' no messages, and so are you. Steady-- steady. Bit tired, lad?"

"Tired, Jem? My arms feel like lead."

"Turn over and float a bit, dear lad, and rest yourself."

"No," said Don. "If I turn over I shall be too helpless to keep up, and I can't turn back.--Jem, I'm beat out."

"You're not!" cried Jem, in so loud and angry a voice, that the occupants of the pursuing boats must have heard them if they had been near. "You've got to keep on swimming steady, as I tells you, and if you says another word to me 'bout being beat, I'll give you such a shove aside o' the head as'll duck you under."

Don made no answer, but swam on feebly, with the water rising over his lips at every stroke; and as Jem swam by him he could hear the lad's breath come quickly, and with a hoa.r.s.e, panting sound.

"And I can't leave him, even to; save myself," groaned Jem. "Oh, Sally, Sally, my gal, I did love you very true; and if I never see you again, good-bye--good-bye!"

It seemed to poor Jem Wimble that his thoughts were so heavy that they sank him lower in the water; but he had a buoyant heart, which is the surest and best of life preservers; and taking a long breath, and setting his teeth, he swam on.

"Not so very far now, Mas' Don," he said. "You feel better now, don't you?"

"Jem."

"Yes, lad."

"It's getting darker. I want to keep on, but I can't. Can you shake hands?"

"No!" cried Jem, fiercely. "You turn over and float."

Don uttered a sigh, and obeyed in a feeble way, while Jem ceased his striking out for sh.o.r.e, and placed one arm under Don's neck.

"It's all right, my lad. Don't lose heart," he said. "It's wonderful easy to float; but you're tired. It's your clothes does it. You're a wonderful good swimmer, Mas' Don; but the wonderflest swimmers can't swim for ever in clothes. That's resting you, arn't it? I'm fresh as a lark, I am. So 'll you be dreckly, lad. Keep cool. Just paddle your hands a bit. We're close in sh.o.r.e, only it's so dark. We've done 'em.

Boats is right away."

"Are they--are they right away, Jem?"

"Yes, my lad, thank goodness!"

Don groaned.

"Don't do that, my lad. You do make me savage when you won't be plucky.

Why, you can swim miles yet, and you shall, as soon as you're rested.

I say, how savage the capen will be when he finds he can't ketch us!"

"Jem, my lad," said Don, quietly; "don't talk to me as if I were a child. It's very good of you, and--kind--but--but I'm done, Jem--I'm done."

"You're not!" cried Jem, savagely. "Say that again, and I'll hit you in the mouth. You arn't done, and it's the way with you. You're the obsnittest chap as ever was. You've got to swim ash.o.r.e as soon as you're rested, and I say you shall."

Don made no reply, but he floated with his nostrils clear of the water, and smiled as he gazed straight up in the dark sky.

"There. It was time I spoke," continued Jem. "Some chaps loses heart about nothing."

"Nothing, Jem?"

"Well, next to nothing, my lad. Why, mussy me! What a fuss we are making about a few hundred yards o' smooth water. I've swum twice as far as this. Rested?"

Don made no reply.