“If you dare!” said the officer, laying his hand upon his sword.
“I dare do my duty, sir,” replied Hilary, ignoring the gesture; and the cutter dashed on through the darkness of the night.
Chapter Forty Three.
Delivering Despatches.
The men had been witnesses of all that took place, and had heard the officer’s angry words, respecting which they talked in a low tone, Billy Waters more than once saying that he didn’t like the lookout forrard—the “forrard” being the future, and not the sea beyond the cutter’s bows.
As the night wore on the officer had become very friendly. “I was wrong, Mr Leigh. Put it down, please, to my anxiety. I beg your pardon.”
“Granted,” said Hilary frankly. “I would not oppose you, sir, if I did not feel that I was right.”
“I am glad I am in the company of so clever a young officer,” the other replied. “Now about rest. I am too anxious to lie down to sleep. I will take charge of the deck while you go and get a few hours’ rest.”