“No,” said Jack, quickly. “They will think we are in the woods, as being the most likely place for us to hide. We should be safer among the rocks in the cliff side, and should be able to watch the cutter as well.”
“It’s a born gin’ral ye are,” said Dinny, enthusiastically.
“Right, Abel, lad; Jack’s right,” growled Bart; and Abel acceded with a nod of his head.
“You are lightest,” he said. “Go first, Jack. Steal down by the side of the cliff, and get a good way round.”
“No,” said Jack, “there is neither time nor need. We must stay where we are, and wait and see which way they go. It will be time then to retreat.”
“Hark at him! Sure, and if I wasn’t certain that there’s Oirish blood in his veins, I’d say his grandfather was the Juke o’ Marlbrook.”
“Right,” growled Bart; and they drew back among the rocks and waited, lying down so as to be well hidden, Jack climbing a little way up the slope above them, and getting into a position which commanded the ravine leading down to the bay.
They had not long to wait before voices were heard coming up from the shore, and soon after the overseer made his appearance, in company with a young officer, both carrying pieces over their shoulders, and followed by half a dozen soldiers in their flannel undress.
They were chatting and smoking, and quite off their guard, taking matters so leisurely that the watcher felt doubtful as to their intentions, and lay trying to catch the bent of their conversation, as they went on toward the interior of the little island, their voices dying out in the distance, before he attempted to stir.
When he drew himself slowly back and crept through the bushes till he rejoined his companions, every mouth parted to ask for news; and anxiety, mingled with the stern determination painted in their faces, told of the stubborn resistance that their pursuers might expect before they had achieved their ends.