“Ha, ha!” laughed Poole, “I was doing just the same. Here, you are a pretty sort of fellow,” he continued, “to be on the watch, and kick up a shindy like that! Suppose the enemy had been sneaking in.”
He had hardly finished speaking when Fitz caught him by the arm and sprang up, for there was a faint rustling, and the two lads felt more than saw that some one was approaching them. Relief came directly, for instead of a sudden attack, it was the skipper who spoke.
“Silence!” he said softly. “Here, if you two lads are as sleepy as that, lie down again till sunrise.”
“No, no, father,” said Poole; “I am all right now. You must be tired out. Burnett and I will go your rounds now.”
“Thanks, my lad; but no, thank you.”
“But you may trust me, father, and I will call you at daybreak.”
“No, my boy; I couldn’t sleep if I tried.”
“No more could I now, father. Let me help you, then; and go round to see that the watch is all right.”
“Very well. You go that way, and have a quiet chat with the man on duty. It will rouse him up. I am going round here.”
The skipper moved off directly, and Poole, before starting off in the indicated direction, whispered to Fitz—