It was almost a presentiment that drew his bare head and shoulders
out through the window, and every hunting instinct in him urged
him to the adventure. The stygian darkness was torn again by a
flash of fire. In it he saw the river and the vivid silhouette of
the distant shore. It would not be a difficult swim, and it would
be good training for tomorrow.
Like a badger worming his way out of a hole a bit too small for
him, Carrigan drew himself through the window. A lightning flash
caught him at the edge of the bateau, and he slunk back quickly
against the cabin, with the thought that other eyes might be
staring out into that same darkness. In the pitch gloom that
followed he lowered himself quietly into the river, thrust himself
under water, and struck out for the opposite shore.
When he came to the surface again it was in the glare of another
lightning flash. He flung the water from his face, chose a point
several hundred yards above the raft, and with quick, powerful
strokes set out in its direction. For ten minutes he quartered the
current without raising his head. Then he paused, floating
unresistingly with the slow sweep of the river, and waited for
another illumination.
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