"
"What did you say?"
"I was thinking, my son, that 'tis lucky you have somebody to look
after you."
Tristram sought for his father's hand and pressed it. "I am not
ungrateful, as you think."
"Why should I think so? You will have more yet to thank me for, I
hope."
The boat at this moment swung to the left, around a sandy promontory
that hid the jets of firearms behind them; but waves of light still
flickered across the black sky and the shouting still went on, though
growing fainter as they hurried forward. By one of the flashes, more
vivid than the rest and accompanied by the crackle of a whole volley,
Tristram saw that the boat was now being propelled down a narrow
channel, both shores of which he could just perceive across the
gloom.
Captain Salt suddenly raised both hands to his mouth, and hollowing
the palms, uttered three mournful cries, long and loud, like the
wailing of a gull.
Within half a minute the sound was echoed back from the darkness on
the right shore, for which the boat immediately headed. After thirty
strokes Tristram felt the sand rub beneath the keel, and they came to
a stand.
"Show the light!" his father called, jumping out into the water that
hardly covered the insteps of his riding-boots.
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