“Ah, that is a secret between Helena and myself,” said Maurice, with a meaning look at the blushing girl,—“a very charming secret indeed. Well, Gurt, and how do you find yourself?”
The sailor, who had been working outside the palisade, gave his trousers a hitch and pulled his forelock.
“I’m as right as a trivet, sir. I hop a little with that there dig I got yesterday, but Lor’ bless you, sir! ’tain’t nothin’. But if I may make so bold, Mr. Justinian, I wants to speak, sir.”
“What is it, Gurt?”
“Growin’ tired of bricklayin’, sir, I goes down a bit for a breath of air, and there, sir, as I’m a sinner, I hears the dip of oars.”
“Boats coming!” cried the Demarch and Maurice in one breath.
“Yes, sir. I jest came up like a shot. Turn on the light, sir, t’ th’ north, an’ if you don’t see them lubbers comin’ back, I’m a Dutchman!”
Maurice ran off to tell Alexandros, who at once sent the white glare across the sea, and there, pulling straight for the breakwater, they saw a long string of boats. The men therein guessed by the sudden flash of the light that they were discovered, and gave a yell of anger, for they had hoped to pull in under cover of darkness, and take the Melnosians by surprise. Thanks, however, to Gurt’s quick ear, and the serviceable electric light, their little scheme was frustrated at nearly the moment of its fulfilment.
“Ten boats!” cried Justinian, counting them rapidly. “Push on the work, my men. Here, some of you, take up your guns. What about those cannon, Dick?”
“All right now, sir,” said the sailor, saluting; “got the spikes out.”