Archy crouched there, breathless and listening, wondering who the man could be who was perfectly silent now, but he had not moved away unless the turf had silenced his footprints.
“How lucky it was I stopped!” thought the midshipman. “I should have walked right on to him and been caught.”
The steps came nearer, and at last it seemed as if they were going to pass on, when a gruff voice from close by said,—
“Well, lad?”
There was a sudden stoppage, and an exclamation, and—
“Made me jump, master.”
“Don’t talk foolery,” said the first voice in impatient tones, and to Archy it was unmistakable. He had heard both voices before. “What have you made out?”
“Nothing.”
“No boat landed?”
“Nor no sign o’ one, master. Both lads swear as no one has passed along the lane.”