“Listen. Isn’t this peculiar?”
Panton was silent there in the darkness for a few minutes, and then with his lips to Oliver’s ear,—
“I say,” he said, “isn’t this rather queer?”
“What? I don’t understand you.”
“If that’s people on the brig she’s coming nearer to us; I thought at first that the wind might be bringing the sound, but it isn’t. The sound’s coming closer.”
“Mr Rimmer is down, then, patrolling round with some of his men. Be careful, or they may shoot.”
“Not he. Mr Rimmer wouldn’t leave his wooden fort in the darkness. Listen.”
“Yes, you’re right. Whoever it is, is coming this way.”
“It’s the enemy, then, and we must retreat again.”
“But which way? What are we to do? We must be near the brig at daybreak, so that as soon as it is light we may make a rush for it.”