Hugh obeyed his instructions; and in a few minutes, wrapped in their military cloaks, they were fast asleep on the lockers, which served as benches and beds. How long they slept they knew not; but both started up into a sitting attitude, with their hands on their pistols.
"Who's there?" both shouted; but there was no answer.
The darkness was intense; and it was clear that whoever had tried to open the door had shut it again.
"Have you your tinderbox handy, Hugh? If so, let us have a light.
"Those fellows are moving about overhead, Hugh; but we had better stay where we are. The scabbard may have shaken down, for the wind has got up, and the boat is feeling it; and if they mean foul play they could knock us on the head as we go out from under the low door.
"Hallo! What's that?"
The "that" was the falling of some heavy substance against the door.
"Those are the coils of cable, Hugh; they have blocked us in. Go on striking that light; we can't push the door open now."
Some more weight was thrown against the door, and then all was still.
Presently Hugh succeeded in striking a light--no easy task in the days of flint and steel--and the candles being lighted, they sat down to consider the position.