Directly after, Ali came hurrying from the cabin, and made his way to where the middy was eagerly looking for his next order.
“Give me arms,” he said; “I have lost my kris.”
“And a good thing, too,” said Bob sharply; “a murderous skewer! May I give him a sword, sir?”
“Yes, and a revolver, if he means to fight on our side,” said Lieutenant Johnson sharply; and Bob hurriedly ordered the armourer to take the young Malay and supply what was needed. “They are making no signals at the island, Roberts,” continued the lieutenant, “and I don’t know what to do. I would man a boat and send on—”
“Under me, sir?” said Bob slowly.
“Of course, Mr Roberts; but we are so short-handed, I don’t know what to do for the best. Ah! here is your friend. Now, sir; tell us in a few words what this all means.”
Ali rapidly told him of his belief, and the lieutenant frowned.
“Certainly there is confirmation of what you say, sir,” he said sternly, “but the story sounds wild and strange.”
He gazed suspiciously at the young chief; but Ali did not blench in the slightest degree.
Just then the firing seemed to become furious on the island, and the lieutenant stamped his foot impatiently.