I recognized the king, who
was in the lead. As they reached the water edge of the landing, I heard
a splash. Majesty, in his eagerness to overtake us, had gathered too
great headway and had landed, if I may use the word, in the water.
The other men, being in armor, were compelled to doff their iron before
jumping in to save the king. The night was dark, but we were so near the
landing that I saw two of the men begin to throw off their armor, and
presently I heard two splashes, followed quickly by two pistol shots in
our direction. In our direction, I say, because both of the balls struck
our boat.
After the pistol shots, all was quiet, but I knew that one of the king's
barges, with a dozen men at as many sweeps, and a score of men at arms,
would soon follow us. I made my way to the stern thwart of our boat,
where Betty was sculling for dear life, taking her course diagonally
across the river toward the Southwark bank. After we had passed the swift
current in the middle of the river, which I thought she had been seeking,
I asked:--
"Why do you not keep to the centre, Betty? You are making toward the
other bank."
"Yes," she replied, with what breath she could spare. "We'll find a stand
of boats tied to poles almost opposite Temple Bar stairs. There we may
take a pair of oars. I'm afraid I can't hold out at this much longer."
We soon found the boat stand, and, with little ceremony, appropriated a
pair of oars, leaving a crown on the thwart of the rifled boat.
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