Part 73 (1/2)
”I hope so, Tom; but all this time we've not been thinking about our prisoner that we were set to watch.”
”Yes, sir, and that's bad; but just you cheer up, sir, and all will come right yet.”
”But the prisoner, Tom--the prisoner,” cried Murray sadly.
”Wait a bit, sir. Anyhow we've got his boat and his crew; and they knows his ways, and perhaps 'll find out his whereabouts a good deal better than we could.”
”Yes, Tom, but--”
”Nothing like patience, sir,” said the man. ”You mark my words.”
CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR.
THE LOST PRISONER.
Murray looked angrily at the big sailor for a few minutes, and then, mastering his annoyance at the easy way in which the man took his trouble, he said--
”Oh, I'll have patience enough, Tom; but what is to be done next?”
Tom May scratched his head and his eyes wandered round till they lit upon the s.h.i.+ny black face of the negro, who was watching him eagerly.
”I'd make that chap lead the way back to the cottage place, sir. He knows all the ins and outs, and he'll show us in half the time we could do it.”
”That's good advice, Tom, but what for? I'm in no hurry to meet Mr Anderson.”
”But you've got to do it, sir, and the sooner you get it over the better.”
”That's true, Tom,” said the middy sadly.
”'Sides, sir, how do we know but what Mr Allen may have come back while we've been gone?”
”Tom!” cried Murray excitedly, and after the fas.h.i.+on of the proverbial drowning man, he s.n.a.t.c.hed at the straw the sailor held out to him.
Turning to the black, who was squatting at his feet, he cried, ”Take us to Mr Allen.”
The slave nodded and grinned as he settled himself down, chattering the while to his crew, who raised their oars ready to dip them in the placid water, when a thought seemed to strike him and he tucked the oar he had seized under one knee and turned to the middy, saying sharply--
”You go kill Ma.s.sa Allen?”
”Kill him? No!” cried Murray, in surprise.
The man nodded and gave the black crew an order, and their oars dipped at once, while the little English party in the cutter followed the lead, and to Murray's surprise he found himself taken through an entirely fresh ca.n.a.l-like lead of water of whose existence he had not the slightest idea.
”I thought so, sir,” said Tom May, in a low tone of voice. ”This chap knows his way about, and it's worth a Jew's eye to have found him and made friends. You'll see that he'll show us where to go. Shouldn't wonder if he takes us straight to that Mr Allen.”
”If he only would, Tom!” replied the mids.h.i.+pman, speaking as if a great load was being taken off his mind.
”Oh, you wait a bit, sir.”
”Bother your wait a bit, Tom! I'm sick of hearing it,” cried the lad angrily. ”Why, look here, they're making straight for the cottage after all.”