“Good-by, old fellow,” replied Maurice, and then they grasped each other’s hand in token of farewell, with that stolid composure with which Englishmen in trying circumstances conceal their emotion. “Take care of yourself for the sake of Eunice.”
“Certainly I will, and for yours also. If all goes well, you will see the white wings of The Eunice off this coast in a few days. But don’t surrender the island before then.”
“Not much,” retorted Maurice grimly. “I’ll blow up all the rocks in the pass first, and if the enemy want to get in, they will have to fly over such a barrier. Good-by once more, my boy. Over you go!”
Crispin, even at this supreme moment of parting, could not restrain a merry laugh at his friend’s coolness, and, laying himself down on the brow of the cliff, grasped the rope, and prepared to descend. As soon as Gurt, below, felt from the quiver that his master was fairly on his way down, he pulled the rope taut with all his strength, so as to render the descent easier.
“Look out for the rocket,” cried Crispin, as he dropped slowly downward into the blackness; “and keep the light turned on the camp, so that we can see what those wretches are up to.”
“All right,” shouted Maurice, who, lying flat on his stomach, was peering over. “Good-by.”
A faint farewell floated up through the intense gloom, as Crispin, with his hands tightly grasping the rope, and his legs twisted round it, went sliding down like a spider on his self-spun thread. Thanks to Gurt, who was holding out the cord widely from the rugged face of the cliff, he found no difficulty in descending, and soon landed safely beside the sailor on the damp sand.
Shaking the rope vigorously as a sign to those on top that they were now on terra firma, they walked carefully forward in the darkness towards the land end of the breakwater. Gradually their eyes, now relieved from the dazzle of the electric light, became accustomed to the gloom, and they could see to some extent a good distance ahead. Stealing along silently, their boots made no sound in the dead sand, and they arrived without mischance at the rocky wall of the harbor. Against this several boats were floating, tied to iron rings welded into the masonry, but rejecting the first three or four, which were too cumbersome for two people to manage, they selected a small light caique, with masts, sail, and oars, which lay nearest to the sea.
Gurt pulled this in easily by the painter, and then bade Crispin get into it, so as to keep it off from the wall as it was towed along. As the sailor was the more powerful of the two, Crispin obeyed without hesitation, and, with the aid of an oar, kept the craft out from the masonry, while Gurt, with the rope over his shoulder and bent form, pulled it with some difficulty towards the entrance. All this time things had gone smoothly with them, for the electric light kept up a steady glare on the camp of their sleeping enemies, and they could see no movement to lead them to suspect that the pirates were aware of their daring attempt.
At the end of the breakwater they placed their provisions, water-bottles, and cloaks in the boat, and after making fast the boat to an iron ring, proceeded to let off the rocket in token of their success. Crispin placed it in position, applied the match, then hastily got into the boat with Gurt and pushed off to sea. Just as they were a few yards from the shore, the rocket flashed skyward with a sharp whizz, scattering trains of sparks in its ascent. Alarmed by the unexpected sound, the pirates rushed out of their tents to ascertain the cause, but the rocket, having expended its fire, had fallen back into the water, so they could see nothing to account for the explosion.