The doors which opened out upon the lake were not fastened, and an entrance was readily effected.  The boat was loosed, pushed out into the lake without noise, and towed down to the Zephyr’s house.  But here the doors were found to be fastened; and one of the boys had to enter by a window, and draw the bolt.  The boat was then secured without difficulty.

“Now, Charley, you get into the Zephyr with two fellows, and tow the Sylph off,” said Tim, in a whisper.

“Shan’t I get my crew first?”

“Just as you like.”

Charles and his two companions got into the Zephyr and worked her down to the rock, where he received his crew.  It was found then that some of the Rovers had not yet made their appearance, so that there were only ten boys to each boat.

Although the success of the criminal undertaking required the utmost caution, Charles found his command were disposed to be very boisterous, and all his efforts would hardly keep them quiet.  After some trouble he got away from the shore; but his crew, from the want of discipline, were utterly incapable of pulling in concert.  They had not taken three strokes before they were all in confusion—­tumbling off the thwarts, knocking each other in the back, and each swearing at and abusing his companions.

“Hold your jaw, there!” called Tim Bunker, in a low tone, from the Butterfly.

“Cease rowing!” said Charles.

But they would not “cease rowing,” and the prospect was that a general fight would soon ensue in spite of all the coxswain’s efforts to restore order.  At last Tim came alongside, and rapping two or three of the turbulent Rovers over the head with a boathook, he succeeded in quieting them.

After several attempts Charles got them so they could pull without knocking each other out of the boat; but he was heartily disgusted with his crew, and would gladly have escaped from them, even if Rippleton Jail had yawned to receive him.  After half a dozen trials he placed the Zephyr alongside the Sylph, let go her moorings, and took her in tow.  The Rovers then pulled for the island; but the passage thither was long and difficult.

CHAPTER XVI.

THE CAMP ON THE ISLAND.

As the crew of the Zephyr tugged at their oars, their imperfect discipline imposing double labor upon them, Charles had an opportunity to consider his position.  The bright color of romance which his fancy had given to the enterprise was gone.  The night air was cold and damp, and his companions in error were repulsive to him.  There was no pleasure in commanding such a motley crew of ill-natured and quarrelsome bullies, and if it had been possible, he would have fled from them.  Who plunges into vice may find himself in a snare from which he cannot escape though he would.

At last they reached the island, and the Sylph was anchored near the shore.  There was a great deal of hard work to be done; but each of the Rovers seemed to expect the others would do it.