Aboard, each member of the crew, besides his revolvers, was equipped with a small hand flashlight; and the larger searchlight in the bow was ready for instant use—to flash in the eyes of an enemy to blind him and to spoil his aim.
And the two heavy guns—one forward, the other aft—were ready for action.
The men stood at their posts—had stood there now for two hours—ever since The Hawk had crept silently from the friendly shelter of Bantry Bay. The crew had been ordered to silence and the crew of The Hawk, commanded by Lord Hastings, obeyed orders.
So far The Hawk had come upon nothing that had justified its lonesome and silent vigil—not an object of any kind had been encountered, and the hour was now after midnight. Still, keen eyes aboard the little craft peered untiringly ahead and swept the waters in all directions, trying to pierce the darkness of the night.
The night, though dark, was perfectly calm and peaceful, albeit black, overhanging clouds heralded the approach of a storm. But Lord Hastings, than whom there were few better weather prophets, announced that the storm would not break before well along toward morning and held to his quest without trepidation.
Frank and Jack were now becoming somewhat restless, for they had begun to fear that the night's venture would not bear fruit. However, each remembered what Lord Hastings had said regarding a "tip," so they knew that their commander had some object in view. Also, since leaving port, The Hawk had held steadily to her course.
Now and then the commander of The Hawk, by the faint glare of his searchlight, shielded by his hand, consulted a chart and several times muttered low directions to the man at the wheel.
Suddenly there came a subdued command from Lord Hastings, and in response the engines were stopped. Lord Hastings placed a hand to his ear and listened intently.
"Did any of you hear anything?" he asked in a low voice.
No one had.