Africa -- Fiction; Businessmen -- Fiction; Crime -- England -- Fiction; Criminals -- England -- Fiction
"Not much for you, perhaps," his son retorted. "You've had your fling,
but I am young and have not yet had a fair show. I have no fancy to be
scragged yet."
"Poor lad!" the father muttered; "poor lad!"
"They haven't caught me yet," said Ezra. "If they did I question
whether they could do much. They couldn't hang three for the death of
one. You would have to swing, and that's about all."
About two in the morning they saw a line of lights, which the fisherman
informed them was from the town of Worthing. Again before daybreak they
scudded past another and far brighter and larger area of twinkling
points, which marked the position of Brighton. They were nearly
half-way upon their journey already. As the dawn approached the dark
storm-clouds gathered away to the northern horizon and lay in a great
shadow over the coast. On all other points the sky was clear, save that
here and there a single puff of white vapour sailed along like the
feather of some gigantic bird floating in the ocean of air.
These isolated clouds, which had been pearly grey in the dim light of
early day, gradually took a lilac tint, which deepened into pink, and
then blushed suddenly to a fiery scarlet as the red rim of the sun rose
majestically over the horizon. All the heaven was filled with colour
from the palest, lightest blue at the zenith to the most brilliant
crimson in the east, as though it were nature's palette on which she had
dashed every tint that she possessed. The sea reflected the rich glow,
and the tossing waves were gashed with scarlet streaks. "It looks like
a sea of blood," the merchant remarked with a shudder, as he gazed at
the wonderful spectacle.
By the returning light the two fugitives were able to notice each
other's appearance. Both were pale, haggard, dishevelled, with
bloodshot, dark-rimmed eyes and anxious, weary faces.
"This won't do!" remarked Ezra. "If Miggs sees us like this he'll smell
a rat."
He dipped a bucket overboard, and after some search a small piece of
soap and a broken comb were extracted from one of the lockers.
With these materials they managed to perform their toilets.
They re-arranged and cleaned each other's clothing too, and Ezra
purchased a yachting-cap from Sampson for his father, the jaunty nature
of which contrasted strangely with the old man's grim angular visage.
"There's a fine view!" Sampson observed, pointing towards the land, just
as his two passengers had finished their toilet.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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