They put into port over and over again, always to hear the same news—that the young Pretender’s emissaries were as busy as ever, and that they came and went with impunity, but how no one could say.
The lieutenant always returned on board, after going ashore to see the port-admiral, in a furious temper, and his junior and the crew found this to their cost.
Days and nights of cruising without avail. It seemed as if the Kestrel was watched out of sight, and then, with the coast clear, the followers of the young Pretender’s fortunes landed in England with impunity. Hilary heard from time to time that Sir Henry had grown more daring, and had had two or three narrow escapes from being taken ashore, but he had always been too clever for his pursuers, and had got away.
Of Adela he had heard nothing, and he frequently hoped that she was safe with some of their friends, and not leading a fugitive life with her father.
It was on a gloomy night in November that the Kestrel was well out in mid-channel on the lookout for a small vessel, of whose coming they had been warned by a message received the day before from the admiral.
A bright lookout was being kept, in spite of the feeling that it might be, after all, only a false scent, and that while they were seeking in one direction the enemy might make their way to the shore in another.
There was nothing for it but to watch, in the hope that this time they might be right, and all that afternoon and evening the cutter had been as it were disguised. Her sails had been allowed to hang loosely, her customary smartness was hidden, and the carpenter had been over the bows with a pot of white paint, and painted big letters and a couple of figures on each side, to give the Kestrel the appearance of a fishing-boat. This done, the jollyboat was allowed to swing by her painter behind, and thus they waited for night.
As the darkness came on, in place of hoisting the lights they were kept under shelter of the bulwarks, and then, in spite of the preparations, Hilary saw and said that their work would be in vain, for the night would be too dark for them to see anything unless it came within a cable’s length.
It was not likely; and the young officer, as he leaned over the side, after some hours’ watching, talking in a low voice to the gunner, who was with him, began to think how pleasant it would be to follow the lieutenant’s example and go below and have a good sleep, when he suddenly started.
“What’s that, Billy?” he whispered.