So long as there was no stormy aspect of
the elements to prevent him from speeding upon his journey, he, upon the
whole, rather liked the darkness and the rain, as it probably acted as a
better shield for his escape, and he rather chuckled than not on the
idea that the rain would last. Besides, it was evident that as it fell,
it smoothed the surface of the river, so that the oars dipped clear into
the stream, and the boat shot on the better. "Well--well," he said, "we can but get wet." "That's all," said the old man, "and I hold it to be quite a folly to
make a fuss about that. If you sit still, the rain will, of course, soak
into your clothes; but if you go on sitting still, it will in time give
you up as a bad job, and begin to run out again. So you have nothing,
you see, to do, but take it easy, and think of something else all the
while." "That is very true, my friend," said Todd, in a kind and conciliatory
tone; "but you get wet through in the process." "Just so. Pull away." The younger man, for the last five minutes, had glanced several times
through one of his hands along the line of the surface of the river, and
the injunction to pull away was probably on account of his having been a
little amiss in that particular. The old man had spoken the words rather
sharply than otherwise. "Yes--yes," said the other. "I'll pull away; but there's another craft
upon the river, in spite of the rain, and they are pulling away with a
vengeance rather. Look, they're in our wake." "It's no use me looking. You know that well enough. I ain't quite so
good with my eyes as I was a matter of twenty years ago. I suppose it's
the police-craft. Of late, you know, they have taken to cutting along at
all times." "Yes, it's them!" Todd stooped in the boat, until his eyes went right along the line of
the water's edge, and there he saw coming on swiftly a biggish bulky
object, and as the oars broke the water, he could see that there were
five or six of them on each side. It looked altogether like some great
fish striking through the water with a number of strange-looking fins. The coward heart of Todd smote him, as well it might, when he saw this
sight. For a moment or two he sat bewildered, and he thought that he
should faint in the stern of the boat, and then that nothing in the
world could save him from capture, if that were in reality the
police-boat. It was, perhaps, only the rain falling upon his face that
revived him, as it came upon him with its cold, refreshed splash. To be
sure he was well armed for one individual, but what could he do against
some dozen of men? Suppose that he did shoot two or three of them, that
would be but a poor recompense for his capture by the others. He was
bewildered to know what to do. He spoke in a low, anxious tone,--

"Are you, from your knowledge of the river, quite sure that that is a
police-boat?" "Ah, to be sure." "Do you, then, think likewise that that is upon our track? Answer me
that. Answer it fairly." "Our track!" said the old man, as he almost ceased rowing. "Hilloa! There's something more in this affair than meets the eye. It won't
exactly pay us to be overhauled by the police, after a chase. Who and
what are you, my friend? If you are afraid of the police-boat, we are
not, and you ain't quite the sort of customer to suit us exactly, I
should say." "I have both their lives," thought Todd, as in the dark he felt for his
pistols. "I have both their lives, and if they show any disposition to
give me up, they shall not live another five minutes. I will shoot them
both--cast their bodies into the river, and land myself at the first
stairs I come to." "Listen to me," he said, in a mild tone of voice. "It would only tire
you, and, besides, it would take too long to tell why I have a fear of
the police. But I have such a fear. I assure you, that I am quite
innocent of what they accuse me. But until I can get from Hamburgh the
only witness who can prove my innocence, I do not want to fall into the
hands of my enemies. I implore you not to sacrifice me!" "Humph!" said the old man, "What have you done?" "Nothing--nothing! as Heaven is my witness!" "But what do they say you have done?" said the young waterman. "Ay!" said the other, "that's the question!" "Why, they say that I was wrong in helping a poor lad, who certainly had
done some wrong thing, to escape from the country; but then it would
have broken his poor mother's heart if they had hanged him. It was for
forgery only, and it was all owing to bad company he did it. Alas! I did
not think it a crime to aid the poor boy to get away. What good would
his death have done to any one?" "Was that all?" "Yes; that was all. But it appears in law, you see, a very serious
offence to aid and abet, as they call it, a felon. Poor boy!--poor
mother!" "Oh, hang it, we won't give you up to the bloodhounds of the law for
that," said the old man; "but, hark you, sir, it's out of the question
that we two should be able to hold our way against the police-galley,
with six young fresh rowers; so all we can do is to put you ashore
somewhere, and then you can shift for yourself the best way you may. I
don't see what else we can do for you." "Nor I," said the young waterman; "and in a few moments it will be best
to do that. Is there a stairs close at hand?" "Not one," said the old man. "It's a done thing. We can't land you,
except in the water, if that can be called landing you at all. I don't
know what to be at." "Oh, save me!" said Todd. "But how can we?" "Yes," said the young waterman, "there's one way of managing that, I
think, will do it, and do it well, too." "Oh, how can I thank you?" "Don't mention it. Suppose we put him on to the first craft we come
along-side of in the river, that is moored, and has got no one on board? It won't be noticed, like our putting into a landing would, you know. They would be sure to say we had put some one on shore. But if we just
ease the boat for a moment as we pass some craft, our fare can scramble
on board, and we can go right on, and let the police overtake us, and
overhaul us in due course. I'll be bound that by this light there's not
a man on board of yonder craft can take upon himself to say whether
there's one, two, or three people in our wherry." "Yes," said the old man, "that will do if anything will, and if that
don't do, nothing will." "It will do," said Todd; "it will do. I thank you from my heart for the
suggestion. It will do well. All you have to do is to let me board the
craft in the river, upon the side furthest removed from the police boat. Oh! you will have the prayers of the widow and the fatherless, for this
kind act." "Never mind about that. Pull away." "And--and when the police-boat is past, will you then come and take me
off again?" "That's awkward," said the old man. "We will, if we can," said the young one; "but don't depend upon us. We
don't know, as yet, what the police may say to us.