“Good idea,” said Fitz, changing places with one of the men. “You’ll keep a sharp look-out, boatswain. The enemy may come into sight at any moment as we round these points, and even if she daren’t come close in, she may send after us with her boats.”
“Trust me for that, sir,” said the boatswain, and the oars began to dip, with the sun soon beginning to show tokens of its coming appearance, and sending hope and light into every breast.
It was a glorious row, the chill of the night giving place to a pleasant glow which set the lads talking merrily, discussing the darkness through which they had passed, the events of the night, and their triumphant success.
“If we could only see that gunboat ashore, Burnett!” cried Poole.
“Ah,” said Fitz, rather gravely; “if we only could!” And then he relapsed into silence, for thoughts began to come fast, and he found himself wondering what Commander Glossop would say if he could see him then and know all that he had done in the night attack.
“I couldn’t help it,” the boy said to himself, as he pulled away. “I shouldn’t wonder if he would have done precisely the same if he had been in my place. I feel a bit sorry now; but that’s no good. What’s done can’t be undone, and I shan’t bother about it any more.”
“Now, Mr Burnett, sir,” said the boatswain, in a tone full of remonstrance, “don’t keep that there oar all day. Seems to me quite time you took your trick at the wheel.”
“Yes,” said the lad cheerily; “I am beginning to feel precious stiff,” and he rose to exchange seats with the speaker, Poole rising directly afterwards for the carpenter to take his place.
“I’d keep a sharp look-out for’ard along the coast, Mr Burnett, sir,” said the boatswain, with a peculiar smile, as the lad lifted the lines.
“Oh yes, of course,” cried Fitz, gazing forward now, and then uttering an ejaculation: “Here, Poole! Look! Why didn’t you speak before, Butters?”