Marston made for the trap hole and, as it was
only a few feet above the surface, he had no difficulty in looking in.
At that moment, a joyful shout of triumph rose from the interior, and
the whole boat's crew heard a dry drawling voice with a nasal twang
exclaiming:
"Queen! How is that for high?"
It was instantly answered by another voice, shriller, louder, quicker,
more joyous and triumphant in tone, but slightly tinged with a foreign
accent:
"King! My brave Mac! How is that for high?"
The deep, clear, calm voice that spoke next thrilled the listeners
outside with an emotion that we shall not attempt to portray. Except
that their ears could detect in it the faintest possible emotion of
triumph, it was in all respects as cool, resolute, and self-possessed as
ever:
"Ace! Dear friends, how is that for high?"
They were quietly enjoying a little game of High-Low-Jack!
[Illustration: HOW IS THAT FOR HIGH?]
How they must have been startled by the wild cheers that suddenly rang
around their ocean-prison! How madly were these cheers re-echoed from
the decks of the _Susquehanna_! Who can describe the welcome that
greeted these long lost, long beloved, long despaired of Sons of Earth,
now so suddenly and unexpectedly rescued from destruction, and
restored once more to the wonderstricken eyes of admiring humanity? Who
can describe the scenes of joy and exuberant happiness, and deep felt
gratitude, and roaring rollicking merriment, that were witnessed on
board the steamer that night and during the next three days!
As for Marston, it need hardly be said that he was simply ecstatic, but
it may interest both the psychologist and the philologist to learn that
the expression _How is that for high?_ struck him at once as with a kind
of frenzy.
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