The dull murmur was fainter now, but he could make out the men at work, and for a few moments he hesitated. Suppose he should be surprised and taken back!
“Never mind,” he thought, “I am only doing my duty. They dare not kill me, and, in the king’s name, here goes.”
He uncovered the lantern and placed it upon the turf, where it burned steadily and well; then opening the door, he took the candle from the extinct lantern, lit it, replaced it, and closed it in, put on his jacket, and then, taking a couple of steps to the left, he stood there holding the second lantern breast high, making a signal that he knew would be understood on board if the diagonal lights were seen by anyone of the watch.
Hilary’s heart beat fast. He was concealed by the cliff from the busy party below, and by the rise behind him from those inland, but at any moment some one might come up to where the lanterns had been placed, miss them, and see what he was about.
It was risky work, but he did not shrink, although he knew that he was lessening his chances of escape. Still, if he could only bring the Kestrel’s boats down upon the scoundrels it would be so grand a coup that his hesitation was always mastered, and he stood firm, gazing out to sea.
How long the minutes seemed, and what a forlorn hope it was! The chances were that the watch might not notice the lights; and even if they were seen, it might not be by anyone of sufficient intelligence to report them to the lieutenant, or to the boatswain or gunner.
Every now and then he fancied he heard steps. Then his imagination created the idea that some one was crawling along the ground to push him over the cliff; but he set his teeth and stood his post, keenly alive, though, to every real sound and such sights as he could see, and ready at any moment to dash down the lanterns and run inland for liberty, if not for life. How dark the lanterns seemed to make it, and how hot the one grew in his hands! Would those on board ever see it, and was he to stand there in vain?
“Ah! if I had only been on board,” he muttered, as the time wore on, till what seemed to him a couple of hours had passed, but what was really only about a fourth of that time; “I would have seen it. Somebody ought to have seen it.”
Still the lights from the cutter burned out brightly, like a couple of stars, and at last, in a hopeless mood, he began to think that the signal he was displaying was too feeble to be seen so far.
“I may as well give it up,” he muttered despairingly; “the rascals will be up directly now, and I shall be caught, and the Kestrels could never get ashore in time.—Yes—no—yes—no—yes,” he panted.