your while. I've a child here whom I wish to convey across the water
without loss of time."

"A child!" thought Wood; it must be the fugitive Darrell. "Hold hard,"
cried he, addressing the waterman; "I'll give the gentleman a lift."

"Unpossible, master," rejoined Ben; "the tide's running down like a
mill-sluice, and the wind's right in our teeth. Old saltwater was right.
We shall have a reg'lar squall afore we gets across. D'ye hear how the
wanes creaks on old Winchester House? We shall have a touch on it
ourselves presently. But I shall lose my wager if I stay a moment
longer--so here goes." Upon which, he plunged his oars deeply into the
stream, and the bark shot from the strand.

Mr. Wood's anxiety respecting the fugitive was speedily relieved by
hearing another waterman busy himself in preparation for starting; and,
shortly after, the dip of a second pair of oars sounded upon the river.

"Curse me, if I don't think all the world means to cross the Thames this
fine night," observed Ben. "One'd think it rained fares, as well as
blowed great guns. Why, there's another party on the stair-head
inquiring arter scullers; and, by the mass! they appear in a greater
hurry than any on us."

His attention being thus drawn to the bank, the carpenter beheld three
figures, one of whom bore a torch, leap into a wherry of a larger size
than the others, which immediately put off from shore. Manned by a
couple of watermen, who rowed with great swiftness, this wherry dashed
through the current in the track of the fugitive, of whom it was
evidently in pursuit, and upon whom it perceptibly gained. Mr. Wood