And now, Peter, I must insure your silence for a little while." Two of the men who were rowing dropped their oars, seized him, bound and gagged him.

He struggled at first against the indignity, but, soon realizing its futility, lay inert on the bottom of the boat.
"Good judgment, Peter," said the slaver, looking down at him.

"It's never wise to struggle against a certainty.

You've the makings of a fine officer in you." The two resumed their oars, and the boat, turning abruptly, as Robert had surmised it would, went down the stream.

The men ceased to talk and the lad on his back looked up at the sky in which but few stars twinkled.