“You’ve tolerable good eyes, ain’t you, Governor? You’ve all tolerable good eyes, ain’t you?” demanded the informer.

All.

“Then if I row up under the Fellowship and lay there, no need to whistle. You’ll make out that there’s a speck of something or another there, and you’ll know it’s me, and you’ll come down that cause’ay to me. Understood all?”

Understood all.

“Off she goes then!”

In a moment, with the wind cutting keenly at him sideways, he was staggering down to his boat; in a few moments he was clear, and creeping up the river under their own shore.