Chapter Five.
A Missing Enemy.
As the slow-match began to sputter Hilary drew back, closed the door of the lantern, and walked backwards aft, towards where the men were gathered. The desire was strong upon him to run and rush right into the far corner of the cabin; but he was a king’s officer, and the men looked up to him for example, so he told himself that he could not show the white feather.
Fortunately he was able to keep up his dignity and retreat in safety to where the men were crouching down, and, joining them, he too assumed a reclining position upon the deck, and watched the sparkling of the piece of paper in the darkness of the forepart of the cutter.
Sparkle, sparkle, sparkle, with plenty of scintillation; like some little firework made for their amusement, but no sign of the train being fired.
On deck there was an ominous silence, as if the smugglers had received warning of the coming danger, and they too were watching for the explosion.
More sparkling and more bright flashes of light, and yet the train did not catch. Never had moments seemed to Hilary so long before, and he felt sure that the slow-match had not been connected with the train, as it must have fired before now.
Then as he waited he wondered what would be the effect of the explosion, and whether it would do more harm than blow off the hatch. He hoped not, for Sir Henry’s sake; and there were moments during that terribly lengthy time of watching when he hoped that after all the plan had failed, for it seemed too terrible, and he would gladly have run forward and dashed the light aside.
They were lightning like, these thoughts, for it really was but a question of very few moments before there was a flash, a hissing noise, a bright light, and then it was as though they had all been struck a violent blow with something exceedingly soft and elastic, and at the same moment there was a dull heavy roar.