For a moment or two the darkness upon the sea seemed to lie there thicker and heavier than ever, till, faint, so dim that it was hardly visible, the lad was conscious of a tiny light which brightened slightly, grew dim, brightened again, and then the boatswain uttered a low “Hah!” and Chips sniffed softly, this time for a reason, for he was inhaling the aroma of a cigar, borne towards them upon the soft damp night air.
The lads joined hands again, and in the warm pressure a thrill of exultation seemed to run from their fingers right up their arms and into their breasts, to set their hearts pumping with a heavy throb.
Neither dared venture upon a whisper to inform his comrade of that which he already knew—that some one on board the gunboat was smoking, probably the officer of the watch, and that they must wait in the hope that he might go below after a look round, when there was still a possibility that the crew might sleep, or at least be sufficiently lax in their duty to enable the adventurers to carry out their plans. They could do nothing else, only wait; but as they waited, with Fitz still grasping his companion’s hand, they both became conscious of the fact that by slow degrees the glowing end of that cigar grew brighter; and the reason became patent—that the current running outward from the river, even at that distance from the shore, was bearing them almost imperceptibly nearer to where the gunboat lay.
The idea was quite right, for fortune was after all favouring them, more than they dared to have hoped. All at once, as they were watching the glowing light, whose power rose and fell, those on board the gig were conscious of a slight jerk, accompanied by a grating sound. This was followed by a faint rustle from the fore part of the boat. What caused this, for a few moments no one in the after part could tell.
They knew that they had run upon something, and by degrees Fitz worked out the mental problem in his mind, as with his heart beating fast he watched the glowing light, in expectation of some sign that the smoker had heard the sound as well.
But he still smoked on, and nothing happened to the boat, which had careened over at first and threatened to capsize, but only resumed her level trim and completely reversed her position, head taking the place of stern, so that to continue to watch the light the middy had to wrench himself completely round; and then he grasped the fact that the current had carried them right on to the anchor-chain where it dipped beneath the surface, before bearing them onward, still to swing at ease.
The man who acted as coxswain—the Camel to wit—having leaned over, grasped the chain-cable and almost without a sound made fast the painter to one of the links.