“’Course not, my lad. There you are; fix ’em in tight. Now then, what is it? I’m good at some things, so long as you don’t ask me to put ’em down in writing.”
“If you wished to get to the steamer, sergeant, how would you proceed?”
“Oh, that’s it, is it?” said the sergeant. “Well then, you’ve got a risky job, my lad. But you’ll do it. Well, if it was me I should wait till night, if I could.”
“And if you could not?”
“I should go just t’other way, to throw the Malay chaps off their scent. Then work round to the head of the island, slip into the water, and swim down.”
“Exactly, sergeant,” said Gray; and he turned off to go.
“He’s as clever a young chap as ever I run against,” said the sergeant, who, like a good many more people, fervently admired those who thought the same as he. “But what puzzles me more and more every day is how such a chap as him should come to be a common soldier. He’s a gentleman, every inch of him. Why, didn’t they get him to talk to the French officers when we landed at Ceylon, and the French frigate was there? and my word, how he did jabber away! He might have been a real mounseer. Well, ’taint no business of mine; so long as he gets his accoutrements clean, and a good coating of pipeclay on his belts, that’s enough for me. I only wish there was more Grays and not so many Sims in the company.”
Meanwhile Adam Gray was on his way to the far side of the fort, very quiet and thoughtful as he made his plans, the first part of which was to go quietly to the edge of the earthwork, wait for his opportunity, and drop into the dry ditch, from which he hoped to crawl unperceived to the cover of the trees, about a hundred yards away. The rest, he felt, must be left to chance.
As he reached the side he met Ensign Long, who came up to him, and to his great surprise shook hands.
“Captain Smithers has told me of your mission, Gray,” he said; “I wish you every success.”