A WATERY GRAVE--THE BED OF THE OCEAN--A BOLD STROKE FOR LIFE--THE
RACE WITH A SHARK--A NARROW SQUEAK--HOW TO GIVE A SHARK THE SACK--THE
BOAT--"FREE, FREE AS AIR!"--A STRANGE ENCOUNTER WITH A GENTLEMAN ON
TWO WOODEN LEGS.
Poor boys!
Unhappy Jack.
Luckless Harry Girdwood.
The fall from such a height to the water would render death almost a
certainty.
Hand and foot bound, they could not move.
Yet stay.
Could it be possible that these noble boys were to fall victims to the
villainy of such ruffians?
No.
As they reached the bottom, the two boys, momentarily deprived of their
senses by the fall, were partially restored by the shock.
Instinctively the knives go to work.
Young Jack here rendered the most signal service.
He held his knife in a tight grip even as they fell.
And barely did they come in contact with the bed of the ocean, when
young Jack stabbed upwards, and, at a single stroke, cut his way out of
the sack.
At the self-same instant his left hand grappled his friend and trusty
comrade Harry.
To kick the earth fiercely with his feet was to Jack a natural impulse,
and striking upwards, he made for the surface.
Will he reach it?
Doubtful.
It seemed a weary, weary way to get.
But now the water grows lighter and less dense.
Jack and Harry can see about them.
Both are experienced swimmers and divers, and they always keep their
eyes open under water. And now this habit serves them in good stead,
for looking up, Jack perceives a huge floating mass bearing down upon
him through the water.
Jack and Harry have Fleon's words, and the cruel jokes of Barthes,
still ringing in their ears, and they know, alas too well what it
means.
A shark.
With the energy of despair, both boys strike out, diving lower.
And now for a moment their fate seems sealed.
They discover that their rapid movements are stopped by the sack, which
they have not got quite clear of, and which, puffed, follows them up
through the water in their progress to the air and light.
And this, by a miracle, saves them.
The voracious monster of the deep strikes for the two boys, but its
unwieldy body not answering its helm with the swiftness of an ordinary
fish, it shoots fairly into the ripped-up sack, in which it gets its
huge maws entangled.
A strange trap for a shark.
A shark trapped by no more cunning contrivance than a canvas sack,
ripped up on one side.
And while the fierce beast wallows about in this novel trap, lashing
the water furiously with its fins, the two boys gain the surface of the
water, marvelling at their escape.
Together they turn over on their backs, and gulp down big draughts of
the welcome air.
Presently they get their breath again.
"Jack, old boy, are you safe?" was Harry's question.
"For the present, Harry, old chum. How do you feel?"
"Saved, thank Heaven!"
"God bless you, old man."
Thus the two boys, rescued from such a complication of perils, pass
their first moments in getting a gasp of Heaven's fresh air.
Each is full of thankfulness for the other's escape, and for the moment
thinks but little of himself.
Suddenly young Jack reverts to their last danger.
"Where is he, the monster?" he asks, with great eagerness.
"The shark?"
"Yes."
"Don't know."
"Doesn't relish us."
"Fancies we shan't be tender after getting out of prison so recently."
Young Jack and Harry were only just out of the jaws of death, and
already they were joking.
"Have you got your wind yet, Harry?"
"Then follow me. I can see a sort of archway in the prison wall, and a
boat, I think."
"Hah!" cried Harry, "I remember."
And turning easily over, he shot out for the prison wall.
A few strokes brought them in sight of a flight of stone steps under
the archway.
And as they catch sight of the steps on ahead, they become conscious
that they are being pursued by another of those ravenous beasts of
which Barthes and Fleon were talking in such cruel levity.
"Quicker, Harry, quicker, old lad!" gasps young Jack.
"Right; I see."
Three vigorous strokes, and Harry grasps a chain fastened to a staple
in the wall to which a boat is moored.
He is on the steps.
Then grappling with young Jack, he helps him up with a desperate jerk.
Just in time.
Hardly are they landed when the hideous monster shoots past him.
"Ugh! you beast!" growled young Jack.
And he shook his fist at the shark, while the latter, after shooting
past, turned round and paddled leisurely back, making sure of them yet.
But they were not left long at liberty to enjoy the shark's
disappointment, for they were startled by a great noise and commotion
going forward in the prison.
Young Jack looked inquiringly at his companion.
"Our absence discovered?"
"I suppose so. Let us make tracks as soon as we can."
With this they set to work to loosen the boat.
It took them some little time to force the padlock which held the chain
to the staple, but together they accomplished it.
Then, lowering their sculls, they pushed out to sea.
"Free," murmured young Jack, exultantly; "free at last."
"Don't be too fast"
Now each took a scull, and with long, deep strokes they pulled for
their own safe part of the coast.
Wind and tide were in their favour, and they shot through the water at
racing pace.
"Pull round; here's our place. Now for it."
"Both together," said Harry Girdwood, excitedly.
Three long, vigorous strokes, and the boat ground far up high and dry
upon the shingle.
They ran on wildly.
And now the villa was in sight, which fact made them increase their
speed.
Ah, how their young hearts beat at the sight of it.
"Won't they be surprised?"
"And pleased."
"And shan't we? Ah, me! Hello! who's this coming here? Why, blow me,
Harry, do you see who it is?"
"Of course; it's old King Mole."
"Mr. Mole, Mr. Mole, Mr. Mole!" they both yelled out. "Here we are safe
back!"
The old gentleman staggered back in sheer amazement.
"Is it possible?" he exclaimed. "Surely--yet, no; it can't be."
"Can't it though?"
And to put all doubt at rest, they each seized hold of a hand and
nearly dragged him off his frail supports.