Gradually, very gradually, it became louder and clearer, until at
length I recognized it. It was the rush of water, unbroken, still
low and at a great distance. I turned to remark on it to Harry,
but Desiree took the words from my mouth.
"I seem to hear something--like the surf," she said. "That isn't
possible, is it?"
I could have smiled but for the deep note of hope in her voice.
"Hardly," I answered. "I have heard it for several minutes. It
is probably some shallows. We must look sharp."
Another fifteen minutes, and I began to notice that the speed of
the current was increasing. The sound of the rushing water, too,
was quite distinct. Still the raft moved more and more swiftly,
till I began to feel alarmed. I turned to Harry:
"That begins to sound like rapids. See that the spears are
fastened securely, and stand ready with your oar. Sit tight,
Desiree."
One thing was certain: there was nothing to do but go ahead. On
both sides the walls of the tunnel rose straight up from the
surface of the water; there was nowhere room for a landing-place
--not even a foot for a purchase to stay our flight. To go back
was impossible; at the rate the current was now carrying us we
could not have held the raft even for a moment without oars.
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