In the Reign of Terror: The Adventures of a Westminster BoyHenty, G. A. (George Alfred)
History
In the Reign of Terror: The Adventures of a Westminster Boy
Henty, G. A. (George Alfred)
France -- History -- Revolution, 1789-1799 -- Fiction; Historical fiction
Shot after shot struck the lugger, then Harry felt her give a sudden
lurch. There was a wild cry and the next moment she went down stern
first. She was so nearly even with the water when she sank, that
there was less downward suck than Harry had expected, and striking
out with his feet his head was soon above the surface. The cord
had kept the hatch within a couple of feet of him, and with some
difficulty, owing to the buoyancy of the corks, he thrust himself
and the girls under it. The tarpaulin was old and rotten, and the
light penetrated in several places, and Harry could see that, in
the position in which they were lying, the faces of both girls were
above the water.
It was useless to speak for their ears were submerged; but a slight
motion from Jeanne responded to a pressure of his arm, and he knew
that she was sensible although she had not made the slightest motion
from the moment the vessel sank. Virginie had not, as he feared
would be the case, recovered her senses with the shock of the
immersion, but lay insensible on his shoulder. He could see by the
movement of Jeanne's lips that she was praying, and he too thanked
God that He had given success to the plan so far, and prayed for
protection to the end.
With every minute that passed, his hopes rose; everything had
answered beyond his expectation. The other victims had apparently
not even noticed what he was doing, and therefore had not, as he
feared might be the case, interfered with his preparations, nor
had any of them striven to gain a hold on the hatchway. The sinking
of the vessels, and the tearing up of the water by the shot, would
render the surface disturbed and broken, and decrease the chances
of the floating hatch attracting attention. After ten minutes had
passed he felt certain that they must be below the point where the
troops were assembled.
The tide was running out strong, for the time for the massacre had
been fixed at an hour which would ensure the bodies being swept down
to sea. Half an hour would, he thought, take them past the bend,
where their friends would be waiting for them. The time seemed
endless, for although Harry felt the coldness of the water but little
for himself, he knew that it must be trying indeed for Jeanne. As
far as he could see her face it was as white as her sister's; but
he had hold of one of her hands now, and knew that she was still
conscious.
At last he heard the sound of oars. It might not be one of the
friendly boats; but the probability was that it was one or other
of them. Had they seen any other fisherman's boat near the point
they would have rowed high up so as to intercept the hatch before
it reached the stranger. Harry could not hear voices; for although
the water had conveyed the sound of the oars a considerable distance,
he could hear no sound in the air.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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