"
"O Jack, my dear friend," cried Peterkin, turning pale, "leave me; I
don't believe they'll think it worth while to kill me. Go, you and
Ralph, and dive into the cave."
"That will not I," answered Jack quietly, while he picked up a stout
cudgel from the ground.--"So now, Ralph, we must prepare to meet these
fellows. Their motto is, 'No quarter.' If we can manage to floor those
coming in this direction, we may escape into the woods for a while."
"There are five of them," said I; "we have no chance."
"Come, then," cried Peterkin, starting up, and grasping Jack
convulsively by the arm, "let us dive; I will go."
Those who are not naturally expert in the water know well the feelings
of horror that overwhelm them, when in it, at the bare idea of being
held down even for a few seconds--that spasmodic, involuntary recoil
from compulsory immersion which has no connection whatever with
cowardice; and they will understand the amount of resolution that it
required in Peterkin to allow himself to be dragged down to a depth of
ten feet, and then, through a narrow tunnel, into an almost pitch-dark
cavern. But there was no alternative. The pirates had already caught
sight of us, and were now within a short distance of the rocks.
Jack and I seized Peterkin by the arms.
"Now, keep quite still; no struggling," said Jack, "or we are lost."
Peterkin made no reply, but the stern gravity of his marble features,
and the tension of his muscles, satisfied us that he had fully made up
his mind to go through with it.
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