"Now let us make a bit of a scuffle; and will you fire a shot or
two, gentlemen? They will be watching us with glasses from the
shore, and will see that we make a fight for it."
The sailors entered into the spirit of the thing, and a mock fight
took place. The marquis and Rupert flashed their swords and fired
their pistols, the crew being driven below, and the hatch put on
above them.
The fugitives had time to look around. Two boats laden with
soldiers had put out, and were rowing after them. The marquis took
the helm.
"The wind is freshening, and I think it will be a gale before
morning, Rupert; but they are gaining upon us. I fear they will
overtake us."
"I don't think they will get on board if they do, sir," Rupert
said. "Had not Adele better sit down on deck under shelter of the
bulwarks? For they keep on firing, and a chance shot might hit
her."
"It is no more likely to hit me than papa or you, Rupert."
"No more likely, my dear," her father said; "but we must run the
risk, and you need not. Besides, if we are anxious about you, we
shall not be so well able to attend to what we have to do."
Adele sat down by the bulwark, but presently said:
"If they come up close, papa, I might take the helm, if you show me
which way to hold it. I could do it sitting down on deck, and you
could help Rupert keep them off."
"Your proposal is a very good one, Adele, and it pleases me much to
see you so cool and steady.
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