"I think," she answered, "that it would be much nicer if you would go on rowing."
"One more question," I said. "Tell me, has this Prince Trueheart got a moustache?"
"Like Mr. Selwyn?" cried the Imp; "should think not. The prince was a fine chap, an' used to kill dragons, you know."
"Ah! I'm glad of that," I murmured, passing my fingers across my shaven upper lip; "very glad indeed."
Lisbeth laughed, but I saw her colour deepen, and she looked away.
"Oh, it must be lovely to kill a dragon!" sighed the Imp.
Now, as he spoke, chancing to look round, I saw in the distance a man in a boat, who rowed most lustily--and the man wore a Panama.
Hereupon, taking a fresh grip upon my long sculls, I began to row--to row, indeed, as I had not done for many a year, with a long, steady stroke that made the skiff fairly leap.
Who does not know that feeling of exhilaration as the blades grip the water and the gentle lapping at the bow swells into a gurgling song? The memorable time when I had "stroked" Cambridge to victory was nothing to this. Then it was but empty glory that hung in the balance, while now----!
I settled my feet more firmly, and lengthening my stroke, pulled with a will. Lisbeth sat up, and I saw her fingers tighten upon the rudder-line.
"You asked me to row, you know," I said in response to her look.
"Yo-ho!" roared Scarlet Sam in the gruffest of nautical tones. "By the deep nine, an' the wind's a-lee, so heave, my mariners all--O!"
At first we began to gain considerably upon our pursuer, but presently I saw him turn his head, saw the Panama tossed aside as Mr. Selwyn settled down to real business--and the struggle began.
Very soon, probably owing to the fixedness of my gaze, or my unremitting exertion or both, Lisbeth seemed to become aware of the situation, and turned to look over her shoulder. I set my teeth as I waited to meet her indignant look, for I had determined to continue the struggle, come what might. But when at last she did confront me her eyes were shining, her cheeks were flushed, and there actually was--the dimple.
"Sit still, children," she said, and that was all; but for one moment her eyes looked into mine.
The old river has witnessed many a hard-fought race in its time, but never was there one more hotly contested than this. Never was the song of the water more pleasant to my ear, never was the spring and bend of the long sculls more grateful, as the banks swept by faster and faster. No pirate straining every inch of canvas to escape well-merited capture, no smuggler fleeing for some sheltered cove, with the revenue cutter close astern, ever experienced a keener excitement than did we.