Quicksilver - Part 64
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Part 64

"See what?"

"My clothes. They're floating down the river."

Bob uttered a low chuckling laugh, and trotted along by the edge of the river; but it was too dark for him to see anything, and Dexter, forgetting cold and dread, swam bravely on, looking well to right and left, without avail, till all at once, just in one of the deepest eddies, some fifty yards down below the doctor's house, and where an unusually large willow spread its arms over the stream, he caught sight of something which blotted out the starlight for a moment, and then the stars' reflection beamed out again.

Something was evidently floating there, and he made for it, to find to his great joy that it was the floating box, which he pushed before him as he swam, and a couple of minutes later he was near enough to the edge on the meadow-side to ask Bob's help.

"Ain't got 'em, have you?" the latter whispered.

"Yes; all right. I'll come out there. Give me a hand."

Dexter swam to the muddy overhanging bank, and seized the hand which Bob extended toward him.

"Now then, shall I duck yer!" said Bob, who had lain down on the wet gra.s.s to extend his hand to the swimmer.

"No, no, Bob, don't. That would be cowardly," cried Dexter. "Help me to get out my clothes without letting in the wet. It is so cold."

"But you swam over," said Bob sneeringly.

"Yes; but you don't know how chilly it makes you feel. Mind the clothes."

Bob did mind, and the next minute Dexter and the barge of dry clothes were upon the gra.s.s together.

"Oh, isn't it cold?" said Dexter, with his teeth chattering.

"Cold? no. Not a bit," said Bob. "Here, whatcher going to do!"

"Do? Dress myself. Here, give me my shirt. Oh, don't I wish I had a towel!"

"You leave them things alone, stoopid. You can't dress yet."

"Not dress!"

"No," cried Bob loudly.

"What do you mean!"

"You come along and I'll show yer. Why, we haven't got the boat."

"No, but--"

"Well, you're all ready, and you've got to swim across and get it."

"I've got to get it!" cried Dexter in dismay. "Why, you said you would get the boat."

"Yes, but I didn't know then that you were going to swim across."

"But you said it would take two to get it," protested Dexter.

"Yes, I thought so then, but you're all ready and can swim across, and get it directly. Here, come along!"

"But--but," stammered Dexter, who was shivering in the chill night air.

"What, you're cold? Well, come along. I'll carry the box. Let's run.

It'll warm yer."

Dexter was ready with another protest, but he did not utter it. His companion seemed to carry him along with the force of his will, but all the same there was a troublous feeling forcing itself upon him that he had made a mistake, and he could not help a longing for his room at the doctor's with its warm bed, comfort, safety, and repose.

But he knew it was too late, and he was too much hurried and confused to do more than try to keep up with Bob Dimsted as he ran by his side carrying the box till they had reached the meadow facing Sir James Danby's garden; and there, just dimly seen across the river, was the low gable-end of the boat-house beneath the trees.

"Hush! don't make a row," whispered Bob. "Now then, slip in and fetch it. Why, you could almost jump it."

"But, Bob--I--I don't like to go. I'm so cold."

"I'll precious soon warm yer if you don't look sharp," cried Bob fiercely. "Don't you try to make a fool of me. Now then, in with you!"

He had put the box down and gripped Dexter fiercely by the arm, causing him so much pain that instead of alarming it roused the boy's flagging spirit, and he turned fiercely upon his a.s.sailant, and wrested his arm free.

"That's right," said Bob. "In with you. And be sharp, and then you can dress yerself as we float down."

Dexter's instinct was to resist and give up, but he felt that he had gone too far, and feeling that his companion might consider him a coward if he refused to go, he lowered himself down into the water.

"That's yer sort," said Bob, in a loud whisper. "You'll soon do it."

"But suppose the chains are locked!"

"They won't be locked," said Bob. "You go acrost and see."

In the eager desire to get an unpleasant task done, Dexter let himself glide down into the swift stream about a dozen yards above the boat-house, and giving himself a good thrust off with his feet, he swam steadily and easily across, the river there being about thirty yards wide, and in a very short time he managed to touch the post at the outer corner of the long low boat-house. Then, hardly knowing how he managed it, he found bottom as his hand grasped the gunwale of the boat, and walking along beside it he soon reached the chain which moored it to the end.

Here in his excitement and dread it seemed as if his mission was to fail. It was dark enough outside, but in the boat-house everything seemed to be of pitchy blackness, and try how he would he could find no way of unfastening the chain.

He tried toward the boat, then downwards, then upwards, and in the boat again, and again. His teeth were chattering, his chest and shoulders felt as if they were freezing, and his hands, as they fumbled with the wet chain, began to grow numbed, while, to add to his excitement and confusion, Bob kept on from time to time sending across the river a quick hissing--

"I say; look sharp."

Then he heard a sound, and he splashed through the water in retreat toward the river, for it seemed that they were discovered, and some one coming down the garden.

But the sound was repeated, and he realised the fact that it was only the side of the boat striking against a post.

"I say, are you a-coming?" whispered Bob.

"I can't undo the chain," Dexter whispered back.

"Yer don't half try."

Just then the clock chimed half-past twelve, and Dexter stopped involuntarily; but a fresh summons from his companion roused him to further action, and he pa.s.sed once more along to the prow of the boat, and seizing the chain felt along it till this time he felt a hook, and, wondering how it was that he had missed it before, he began with trembling fingers to try and get it out from the link through which it was thrust.