“See it, Master Roberts, sir? Why, I could see it myself if I tried, and knowed where to look for it. Bless yer ’art, they Malay chaps have got eyes like cats, and can see in the dark.”
“Oh yes, I dare say,” said Bob. “Well, all I can say is, I hope we shall knock the prahus into splinters. I do owe those fellows a grudge for being chucked overboard as I was. It makes me feel wet now to think of it.”
“Yes, that ’ere war a rum ’un, Master Roberts, sir,” said Dick, solemnly. “Now, look here, sir, you being a boy like, and not wanted, if I was you, I’d just go down below, get on my perch, and tuck myself up and go to roost where I should be quite safe.”
“Thank you, Dick,” said Bob, quietly; “I’m going to stop on deck, and then go with the party ashore. We’ll leave the old men and old women on board to take charge of the ship till we come back.”
“That’s as good as saying I’m a reg’lar old woman, Master Roberts, sir,” said Dick, grinning.
Bob did not condescend to reply, but walked aft a little way, to where he could see a dark figure half-leaning, half-sitting in the darkness upon a gun, and looking over the bulwarks.
“Here, you sir,” he said sharply, “come away from that gun. Why are you not with the detachment forward there?”
“Oh, you be hanged!” said a familiar voice.
“What? Tom Long?”
“That’s my name, Mr Roberts,” said the dark figure.