"Bekase I'm wet with fresh wather and mud, and I'm a man who likes a little salt outside as well at in. It kapes off the ugly fayvers of the place. Do you want me to catch a cowld?" "Silence, there!" said Mary, gruffly, from her place in the prow; and for quite an hour she toiled on through the intense darkness, guiding the boat from the tangle of weedy growth and cane into winding canal-like portions of the lagoon, where every now and then they disturbed some great reptile, which plunged into deeper water with a loud splash, or wallowed farther among the half-liquid mud. The sounds ashore grew distant, the firing had ceased; and, feeling safer, the little party began to converse in a low tone, all save Dinny, whose deep, regular breathing told that he had fallen fast asleep in happy carelessness of any risk that he might run. "How came you out here?" said Bart from his seat, after another vain effort to take Mary's place. "Ship," she said laconically, and with a hoarse laugh. "But who gave you a passage?" said Abel. "Gave? No one," she said, speaking in quite a rough tone of voice. "How could I find friends who would give! I worked my way out." "Oh," said Bart; and he sat back, thinking and listening as the pole kept falling in the water with a rhythmic splash, and the brother and sister carried on a conversation in a low tone. "I suppose we are safe now," said Mary. "They never saw the boat, and they would think you are hiding somewhere in the woods." "Yes; and because they don't find us, they'll think the alligators have pulled us down," replied Abel. "Where are we going?" "To get right down to the mouth of this creek, and round the shore. There are plenty of hiding-places along the coast. Inlets and islands, with the trees growing to the edge of the sea." "And what then?" said Abel. "What then?" said Mary, in a half wondering tone. "Yes; where shall we go?" There was an interval of silence, during which the boat glided on in the darkness, which seemed to be quite opaque. "I had not thought of that," said Mary, in the same short, rough voice which she seemed to have adopted. "I only thought of finding you, Abel, and when I had found you, of helping you to escape." "She never thought of me," muttered Bart, with a sigh. "Good girl," said Abel, tenderly. "Hush! Don't say that," she cried shortly. "Who is this man with you?" she whispered then. "One of the sentries." "Why did you bring him?" "We were obliged to bring him, or--" "Kill him?" said Mary, hoarsely, for her brother did not end his sentence. "Yes." "You must set him ashore, of course." "Yes, of course. And then?" "I don't know, Abel. I wanted to help you to escape, and you have escaped. You must do the rest." "You're a brave, true girl," said Abel, enthusiastically; but he was again checked shortly. "Don't say that," cried Mary, in an angry tone.