“Bosh!” cried Fitz, and like an echo of his ejaculation came the skipper’s command—
“Forward!” And directly afterwards, “Poole—Mr Burnett—will you watch with me?”
The lads stepped to his side at once.
“The last to turn our backs, Fitz Burnett,” whispered Poole. “The place of honour after all.”
Chapter Thirty Three.
Aboard again.
The little party strained their ears as they tramped silently on towards the boat; but not a sound was heard suggesting that the enemy grasped the fact that the strategy had been cleverly carried out. The dull reflection of the fires had from time to time been faintly discernible upon the low-hanging mist; but this soon died out, and fortune seemed to be smiling kindly upon their efforts now.
“I’d give something to know what time it is,” whispered Poole, and he took a step nearer to his father to ask him how long he thought it would be before day.