Quicksilver Part 84

On still in a dreary mechanical way. Dexter could hardly move his arms, and Bob was, in spite of his long experience, almost as helpless.

"It's of no use," the latter said at last; and he ceased rowing.

"No, no, Bob; don't give in!" cried Dexter excitedly. "We shall soon tire him out now. Row! Row!"

"Can't," said Bob drearily. "I haven't another pull in me."

"Then give me the other scull, and let me try."

"Yah! you couldn't pull both," cried Bob. "There, I'm going to try a hundred more strokes, and then I shall swim ash.o.r.e. I ain't going to let him catch me."

"Pull, then, a hundred more," cried Dexter excitedly. "Oh, do make it two, Bob! He'll be tired out by then."

"I'm a-going to pull a hundred," grumbled Bob, "and then give it up.

Now then!"

The sculls splashed the water almost together, and for a few strokes the boys pulled vigorously and well; but it was like the last bright flashes of an expiring candle, and long before the half-hundred was reached the dippings of the blades grew slower and slower. Then they became irregular, while, to add to the horror of the position, the man in pursuit seemed to have been keeping a reserve of strength ready for such an emergency, and he now came on rapidly.

Bob would have proposed putting ash.o.r.e once more, but, in avoiding the various crafts, they had now contrived to be about midstream, and in his horror and dread of the coming enemy all thought of scheming seemed to have been driven out of his head.

He uttered a despairing yell, and began to tug at his oar once more; Dexter followed his example, and the distance again increased.

But only for a few minutes, then they seemed to be growing weaker, their arms became like lead; their eyes grew dim, and the end was very near.

"Ah, I've got yer at last, have I?" shouted the man, who was not forty yards away now.

"Not yet," muttered Dexter. "Pull, Bob, pull!"

Bob responded by going through the motion of rowing, but his scull did not dip into the water, and, meeting with no resistance, he went backwards off the seat, with his heels in the air.

Dexter jumped up, seized his companion's scull, and, weary as he was, with all the stubborn English pluck which never knows when it is beaten, he reseated himself, s.h.i.+pped his scull, and bent forward to try, inexperienced as he was, to make another effort for escape.

As he seated himself, breathless and panting hard, he gave one glance at his enemy, then another over his shoulder at a boat on ahead, which it would be his duty to avoid, for it seemed to be going right across his track.

Then he began to row, putting the little strength he had left into his last strokes.

"Ah, it's no good," cried the man triumphantly. "I've got yer at last."

"How--ow!" yelled Bob, with a cry like a Newfoundland dog shut out on a cold night.

"Drop that there rowing, or I'll--"

Dexter heard no more. He was pulling frantically, but making hardly any way. Then he heard voices ahead, glanced round with his sculls raised, and found that he was running right toward the craft just ahead.

Another moment and there was a b.u.mp.

The man had driven his little tub right into the stern of the gig, and as he laid hold he snarled out--

"I knew I should ketch yer."

"How--ow!" yelled Bob again, from where he lay on his back in the bottom of the boat, his legs still over the seat.

_b.u.mp_!

There was another shock, and Dexter started up, saw that he had run into the boat ahead, and that one of the two sailors, who had been rowing, had taken hold of the bows.

He saw that at a glance, but he also saw something else which seemed to freeze the blood in his breast.

For there, seated in the stern of that large boat into which he had run, were the Doctor, Sir James Danby, old Dan'l, and Peter.

CHAPTER THIRTY NINE.

BROUGHT TO BOOK.

Dexter did not pause a moment. It did not occur to him that he was utterly exhausted, and could hardly move his arms. All he realised was the fact that on the one side was the man whom he had half-killed with the boat-hook, just about to stretch out his hand to seize him, on the other, those whom he dreaded far more, and with one quick movement he stepped on to the thwart of the gig, joined his hands, dived in, and disappeared from sight, in the muddy water.

For a few moments there was the silence of utter astonishment, and then the man who had pursued the boys down the river began to take advantage of the general excitement by keeping hold of the side of the gig and beginning to draw it away; but Bob set up such a howl of dismay that it drew Peter's attention, and he too seized the boat from the other end, caught out the chain, and hooked it on to a ring-bolt of the big boat in which he sat.

"You drop that there, will yer!" cried the man. "It's my boat."

"How--ow!" cried Bob, in the most canine of yelps; and at the same moment the gig was literally jerked from the man's hold, for the two sailors had given a tremendous tug at their oars to force the boat in the direction that Dexter was likely to take after his rise, and the next minute a dozen yards were between the tub and the gig.

"For heaven's sake, mind! stop!" cried the doctor excitedly. "Don't row, men, or you may strike him down."

The men ceased rowing, and every eye began to search the surface of the water, but no sign of Dexter could be seen.

"He could not sink like that," cried Sir James. "He must rise somewhere."

But must or no, Dexter did not rise, and the men began to paddle softly down-stream, while the doctor stood up in the boat gazing wildly round.

"It was all my doing," he said to himself. "Poor boy! poor boy!"

A feeling of horror that was unbearable seemed to be creeping over the occupants of the great boat. Even Dan'l, who looked upon Dexter as his mortal enemy, and who had suggested, in the hope of seeing him sent to prison, that the surest way of capturing the boys was to go down to the mouth of the river--even Dan'l felt the chill of horror as he mentally said--

"'Tain't true. Them as is born to be hanged is sometimes drowned."

But just then there was a tremendous splash, and the big boat rocked to and fro, the captive gig danced, and Bob uttered another of his canine yelps, for Peter had suddenly stepped on to the gunwale, dived in after something he had seen touch the surface of the water twenty yards lower down, where it had been rolled over and over by the rapid tide, and a minute later, as he swam vigorously, he shouted--"I've got him!"

And he was seen holding the boy's head above the water, as he turned to try and stem the current, and swim back to the boat.

The task was not long, for the two sailors sent her down with a few vigorous sweeps of their oars, and Dexter and his rescuer were dragged over the side, as the man with the tub slowly backed away.

No time was lost in reaching the sh.o.r.e, and the insensible boy was carried up to the princ.i.p.al hotel in the port, where quite an hour elapsed before the surgeon whose services were sought was able to pause from his arduous task, and announce that his patient would live.

For it was a very narrow escape, and the surgeon said, as he shook hands with Dr Grayson--