Now, all was not
only dark, but still as death. There was no longer any cry, sound,
alarm, or foot-fall, audible. The very air seemed charged with
uncertainty, and its offspring, apprehension.
As they approached nearer and nearer to what was conceived to be the
most critical point in the passage, the canoes got closer together;
so close, indeed, that le Bourdon and Gershom might communicate in
very guarded tones. The utmost care was taken to avoid making any
noise, since a light and careless blow from a paddle, on the side of
a canoe, would be almost certain, now, to betray them. Margery and
Dorothy could no longer control their feelings, and each rose in her
seat, raising her body so as to bring her head above the gunwale of
the canoe, if a bark canoe can be said to have a gunwale at all.
They even whispered to each other, endeavoring to glean
encouragement by sympathy. At this instant occurred the crisis in
their attempt to escape.
CHAPTER XXIX.
For an Indian isle she shapes her way
With constant mind both night and day:
She seems to hold her home in view
And sails as if the path she knew,
So calm and stately in her motion
Across the unfathomed, trackless ocean.
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