been
haunting him all day.

"Here they are at last!--come along now--keep up with them," said
Hardy to Grey, as the boat neared the Gut; and the two trotted
along downwards, Hardy watching the crew and Grey watching him.

"Hardy, how eager you look!"

"I'd give twenty pounds to be going to pull in the race." Grey
shambled on in silence by the side of his big friend, and wished
he could understand what it was that moved him so.

As the boat shot into the Gut from under the cover of the
Oxfordshire bank, the wind caught the bows.

"Feather high, now," shouted Miller; and then added in a low
voice to the Captain, "It will be ticklish work, starting in this
wind."

"Just as bad for all the other boats," answered the Captain.

"Well said, old philosopher!" said Miller. "It's a comfort to
steer you; you never make a fellow nervous. I wonder if you ever
felt nervous yourself, now?"

"Can't say," said the Captain. "Here's our post; we may as well
turn."

"Easy, bow side--now two and four, pull her round--back water,
seven and five!" shouted the coxswain; and the boat's head swung
round, and two or three strokes took her into the bank.

Jack instantly made a convulsive attempt to board, but was
sternly repulsed, and tumbled backwards into the water.

Hark!--the first gun. The report sent Tom's heart into his mouth
again. Several of the boats pushed off at once into the stream;
and the crowds of men on the bank began to be agitated, as it
were, by the shadow of the coming excitement. The St. Ambrose
crew fingered their oars, put a last dash of grease on their
rollocks, and settled their feet against the stretchers.

"Shall we push her off?" asked "bow."

"No, I can give you another minute," said Miller, who was
sitting, watch in hand, in the stern, "only be smart when I give
the word."

The Captain turned on his seat, and looked up the boat. His face
was quiet, but full of confidence, which seemed to pass from him
into the crew. Tom felt calmer and stronger, he met his eye. "Now
mind, boys, don't quicken," he said, cheerily; "four short
strokes, to get way on her, and then steady. Here, pass up the
lemon."

And he took a sliced lemon out of his pocket, put a small piece
into his own mouth, and then handed it to Blake, who followed his
example, and passed it on. Each man took a piece; and just as
"bow" had secured the end, Miller called out--

"Now, jackets off, and get her head out steadily."

The jacke