Quicksilver Part 82

"Getting closer, ain't he?" whispered Bob hoa.r.s.ely. "Yes. I'm afraid so."

"Pull, pull!"

Dexter needed no telling, and he tugged away at the oar as the boat glided a little more swiftly on.

"Ain't leaving him behind, are we!" growled Bob, whose face now grew convulsed with horror. "No; I'm afraid he's coming nearer."

"Oh dear, oh dear!" groaned Bob. "He'll half-kill me, and it's all your fault. Let's stop rowing and give him the boat."

"That we won't," cried Dexter, setting his teeth. "I'll row till I die first."

"But it'll only make him more savage," growled Bob. "I wish I was safe at home."

"You're not half-pulling, Bob."

"It's of no use, matey. He's sure to ketch us, and the furder we rows, the more wild he'll be."

"I don't care," cried Dexter; "he shan't have it if I can help it.

Row!"

In his most cowardly moments Bob was obedience itself, and breaking out into a low sobbing whimper, as if it were a song to encourage him in his task, he rowed on with all his might, while only too plainly it could be seen that the man was gaining steadily upon them in spite of the clumsiness of his boat; and consequently it was only a question of time before the boys were overtaken, for the muscles of the man were certain to endure longer than those of Dexter, untrained as they were to such work.

"He's closer, ain't he?" whined Bob.

"Yes, ever so much," replied Dexter, between his set teeth.

"Well, jest you recollect it was you hit him that whack on the head. I didn't do nothing."

"Yes, you did," said Dexter sharply. "You said, _yah_! at him, and called him names."

"No, I didn't. Don't you be a sneak," whined Bob. "You were ever so much worse than me. Is he coming closer?"

"Yes."

It was a fact, closer and closer, and the tide ran so strongly now that the boys had hard work to make much progress. They did progress, though, all the same, for their boat was narrow and sharp. Still the current was dead against them, and their want of movement added to their despair.

Bad as it was for them, however, it was worse for the man in his heavy little broadly-bowed tub; and so it happened that just as Bob began to row more slowly, and burst into a fit of howling, which made Dexter feel as if he would like to turn and hit him over the head with his oar--a contact of scull against skull--the man suddenly ceased rowing, turned in his seat, and sat shaking his fist at them, showing his teeth in his impotent rage.

"There!" cried Bob, who was transformed in an instant. "We've bet him.

He can't pull no further. Yah! yah!"

Bob changed back to his state of cowardly prostration, and began to tug once more at his oar, for his derisive yell galvanised the man once more into action, and the pursuit was continued.

"Oh!" howled Bob. "Who'd ha' thought o' that?"

"Who's stupid now?" panted Dexter, as he too rowed with all his might.

Bob did nothing but groan, and the pursuit and flight were once more continued, each moment with despair getting a stronger hold of the fugitives. The oar felt hot in Dexter's blistered hands, a peculiar sensation of heaving was in his chest, his eyes began to swim, and he was just about to cease rowing, when he could hardly believe his starting eyes--their enemy had once more given up the pursuit, and was sitting wrenched round, and staring after them.

"Don't, pray, don't shout at him this time, Bob," panted Dexter.

"I won't if you're afraid," said the young scoundrel.

"Keep on rowing, or he'll come after us again."

Bob's scull was dipped again directly, and the motion of the boat was kept up sufficiently to counteract the drift of the tide, while the man in the little tub was swept rapidly away.

"Let's get over the other side to those trees," said Dexter, as he felt that he could row no further, and the boat's head was directed half-across the stream so as to reach the clump of willows indicated, where, after a much heavier pull than they had antic.i.p.ated, the gig was made fast, and Bob's first act after laying down his scull was to lean over the side and drink heartily of the muddy water.

Dexter would gladly have lain down to rest, but there was a watch to keep up.

Bob mocked at the idea.

"Yah!" he said; "he won't some any more. I say, are you nearly dry?"

"Nearly," said Dexter, "all but my boots and socks."

These he took off, and put in the sun to dry, as he sat there with his elbows on his knees, and his chin on his hands, watching till Bob was asleep.

He was faint and hungry, and the idea was strong in his mind that the man would steal down upon them when he was not expected. This thought completely drove away all drowsiness, though it did not affect his companion in the slightest degree.

The next thing ought to have been to get some food, but there was no likely place within view, and though several boats and a barge or two pa.s.sed, the fear of being questioned kept the watcher from hailing them, and asking where he could get some bread and milk.

The hours glided slowly by, but there was no sign of the shabby little boat. The tide ran up swiftly, and the gig swung easily from its chain; and as Dexter sat there, hungry and lonely, he could not keep his thoughts at times from the doctor's comfortable house.

Towards evening the socks and boots were so dry that Dexter replaced them, looking down the while rather ruefully at his mud-stained trousers. He rubbed them and scratched the patches with his nails; but the result was not satisfactory, and once more he sat gazing up the river in expectation of seeing their enemy come round the bend.

It was getting late, and the tide had turned, as Dexter knew at once by the way in which the boat had swung round with its bows now pointing up-stream. And now seemed the time when the man might appear once more in pursuit.

The thought impressed him so that he leaned over and shook Bob, who sat up and stared wonderingly about.

"Hallo!" he said. "What time is it!"

"I don't know, but the tide has turned, and that man may come after us again."

"Nay, he won't come any more," said Bob confidently. "Let's go and get something to eat."

It was a welcome proposal, and the boat being unmoored, Dexter took one of the sculls, and as they rowed slowly down with the tide he kept his eyes busy watching for the coming danger, but it did not appear.

Bob went ash.o.r.e at a place that looked like a ferry, where there was a little public-house, and this time returned with a small loaf, a piece of boiled bacon, and a bottle of cider.

"I'd ha' brought the bacon raw, and we'd ha' cooked it over a fire,"

said Bob, "only there don't seem to be no wood down here, and there's such lots of houses."

Dexter did not feel troubled about the way in which the bacon was prepared, but sat in the boat, as it drifted with the tide, and ate his portion ravenously, but did not find the sour cider to his taste.

By the time they had finished, it was growing dark, and lights were twinkling here and there on either bank, showing that they were now in a well-populated part.