There followed a wait; it would have been hard for them to tell whether it lasted the half of an hour, or for five whole ones. The black shadows outside turned slowly to grey, the moonlight faded and disappeared, a fresh wind began to blow the fog away in shore. Somewhere out yonder in the woods a bird began to sing, offering them their first hope that the night with its desperate anxieties and terrors was at last giving place to day. Billy went to the window and threw it open so that Sally too, from her place beside Captain Saulsby, might hear the promise of the dawn.
The door pushed open and there came slowly in the bluejacket whom Billy had last seen signalling on the beach, a target for the stranger’s rifle.
“Been quite a night, hasn’t it?” the man said cheerfully as he sat down on the stool and wiped his face.
“Did he hit you?” “Did he hurt you?” the two children asked in a single breath.
“Never touched me,” was the answer. “The first bullet went over my head and the second struck the staff of the flag and knocked it out of my hand—jarred my elbow something horrid, and nearly threw me down—but that’s all the harm it did. The real mischief is that I’m afraid the man has got away.”
“But he can’t get off the Island,” Billy objected.
“That is just what he has done,” the sailor answered. “He knew the paths too well and left us tangled up in the thickets. We gave him a hot chase, until he got over to a house that stands on the shore beyond the woods, helped himself to the owner’s catboat, and put off before we could get anywhere near. We have signalled to the ship, though, and they’ll see that he doesn’t get clear away. We have his friend Jarreth in jail, and this man should be joining him there before very long.”
“It was your father’s boat he got away in, Sally,” exclaimed the boy, “and she can sail pretty fast.”
“I believe Uncle Sam has something that can catch her,” the sailor said. “The fellow won’t get off so easy as all that.”
“And you have put Harvey Jarreth in jail?” Sally questioned.