I could already see the
quick dancing gleam of the surf in front of me. Suddenly, as I peered
through the deepening shadow, a long dark boat shot out from it, like a
trout from under a stone, making straight in our direction.
'A guard boat!' cried one of the seamen.
'Bill, boy, we're done!' said the other, and began to stuff something
into his sea boot.
But the boat swerved at the sight of us, like a shying horse, and was
off in another direction as fast as eight frantic oars could drive her.
The seamen stared after her and wiped their brows. 'Her conscience
don't seem much easier than our own,' said one of them. 'I made sure it
was the preventives.'
'Looks to me as if you weren't the only queer cargo on the coast
to-night, mister,' remarked his comrade. 'What could she be?'
'Cursed if I know what she was. I rammed a cake of good Trinidad
tobacco into my boot when I saw her. I've seen the inside of a French
prison before now. Give way, Bill, and have it over.'
A minute later, with a low grating sound, we ran aground upon a gravelly
leach.
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