Jack Harkaway and His Son's Escape from the Brigands of Greece Part 100

"Why, of course," said Barthes; "and see how the lazy beggars haven't even taken the trouble to tie the neck of the sack round."

"That's easily done."

Before the boys could guess what was next to take place, the sack was jerked over, and a rope was twisted around the neck of the sack, thus excluding nearly all the air.

But young Jack had already grown desperate, and he held his knife in his hand ready for an emergency.

The jerk had sent the knife through the sack about two inches, and it prodded Barthes in the hand.

"Hullo!"

He yelled and drew back his hand

"What now?"

"I've cut myself."

"Why, how on earth did you manage that?"

"There's a knife sticking out of the sack. Let's open it and get it out."

"What for?"

"It's a pity to throw such a thing into the sea."

The boys shivered.

This time there could be no mistaking the words.

"Jack," whispered Harry Girdwood, "do you hear?"

"Yes; let us show ourselves, and go back to prison, or--"

But before he could complete his proposition, they were jerked in the sack up on to their feet.

"Come, let's do it quick"

"Good!"

"Phew!" grunted Barthes; "it's precious heavy."

"Heavy enough for two," said Fleon.

"Over with it. Now, then, both together at the word three."

"One."

"Two."

"Three."

They raised the sack on to the window ledge and--

"Oh, murder!" cried Barthes, his cheek blanching with terror. "I felt something move in the sack."

"So did I," faltered Fleon.

"It's alive," cried the man Barthes, turning pale.

"Over with it, then; sharp."

It was poised for an instant, no more, over the dizzy height.

Then down it went.

As it fell, a wild, despairing shriek went up to Heaven.

A piteous cry.

It was cut short by the sharp flight through the air.

A splash.

Then all was still.

The two ruffians stood staring at each other, their eyes half starting from their sockets.

The perspiration stood out in big beads upon their foreheads, and they shook like ague-stricken wretches.

"Look over," said Fleon in a hoa.r.s.e whisper. "What do you see?"

"I see," responded the other, in the same constrained tone, "there's a shark! I see his fin."

"There's plenty more in the neighbourhood."

"No; he's all alone, and, my eye! what a feast he'll have!"

"I see him! He strikes for the bottom. He's got him, whether he's dead or alive."

CHAPTER x.x.xVI.

A WATERY GRAVE--THE BED OF THE OCEAN--A BOLD STROKE FOR LIFE-- THE RACE WITH A SHARK--A NARROW SQUEAK--HOW TO GIVE A SHARK THE SACK-- THE BOAT--"FREE, FREE AS AIR!"--A STRANGE ENCOUNTER WITH A GENTLEMAN ON TWO WOODEN LEGS.