CHAPTER V

GEORGE RECONNOITRES

Splash through the water rushed the French soldiers in full chase.  Already they were beginning to cheer, for the leading man had all but grabbed the boat, and the prisoner was as good as retaken.  George looked down for something with which to strike, for he did not intend to submit without a struggle, but there was no oar on board.  There had been a small boat-hook, but that he had left sticking in the sand when he gave his lusty shove off.  The pursuer, up to his neck in water, seized the boat, and for a moment his chin rested on the side.  But the next instant the lad had kicked out with the clumsy wooden shoes he wore, and the soldier fell back half stunned into the sea.  The rest of the fellows instantly raised their guns, but George did not wince; he perceived what they in their wild scamper after him had not noticed, that they had dragged their muskets through the water, and for the time had rendered the weapons useless.  The boy laughed in spite of his predicament, as he hastily ran up the little sail.

The breeze at once caught the canvas, and the bark moved briskly away.  But two of the soldiers, who had not entered the sea, hastily reloading—­they had not done so hitherto, after the recent discharges—­levelled their pieces at the retreating prisoner.  George flung himself to the bottom of the boat as he saw the move, and the bullets whistled harmlessly overhead.  Springing up again, he perceived that he was now beyond range, and with a shout of joy he waved his cap triumphantly.  The whole escape had been planned and successfully carried out in the space of five minutes.  He was free!

But his joy was presently tempered by the thought of what might follow.  That the men would endeavour to give chase he well knew; indeed he could make out their forms running in search of another boat.  However, he had gained a start; that was something.  As to whither he was destined to be driven, or how he was to get food and water, these things were for the present of less consequence than the fact that he was free.

Fortune favoured him, for within ten minutes a thickness came on, and soon the boat was enveloped in fog.  The chase was now rendered impossible to the enemy.  Hour after hour George kept his sail hoisted, driving briskly he knew not whither.

“I am bound,” said he to himself, “to stumble upon either the English or the Dutch coast, and in either case I shall be among friends.”  Thus the lad comforted himself.

The day wore on, and he was becoming ravenously hungry.  He would have given much for a basin of even the prison soupe maigre.  The sky was darkening and he began to feel drowsy; he resigned himself to a night of hunger.  All at once he heard shouts, and the hull of a big vessel loomed up within a few yards of him.  He was instantly wide awake.  Was the stranger French?  Thank Heaven, no!  She was Dutch built, and as her flag showed, Dutch owned.  Hurrah!