Plainly enough now he had heard the peculiar creak given by an oar rubbing against wood, and this was repeated again and again.
He strained his eyes in the direction from which it came, but could see nothing for the trees. Feeling, though, that he ought to act, he went to where Private Sim still lay sleeping heavily and gave him a lusty kick, with the effect of making him start to his feet.
“I only—oh, it’s you Private Gray,” he said, huskily. “I thought it was the sergeant.”
“You untrustworthy villain!” whispered Gray. “Silence, this moment. Take your rifle, and keep watch till I return.”
“Who are you talking to like that?” said Sim, in a bullying tone.
“You, sir,” replied Gray, in a low, authoritative manner, which made the man shrink. “Do you wish me to report that I found you sleeping at your post? Silence! no words. There is a large boat of some kind approaching; be on the look-out and challenge, and fire if necessary.”
Private Sim did not answer, but stood on the alert, while Gray ran back in the direction of the fort.
Before he was half-way there, though, he heard the challenge of a sentry on his right, followed by a faint cry and a heavy fall.
The challenge was repeated by another sentry farther away, and this time there was the report of a sentry’s rifle; and directly after came from behind him, where he had left Private Sim, the report of another piece.
He knew it must be Sim, and as danger was there, his first impulse was to run back to the help of the ladies and the resident. His second thought told him that he was unarmed, and such an act would be madness. It must take some time for an enemy to break into the place, and before then the soldiers would have turned out.