“Then what’s that? Did you hear it then?”
“Yes, I heard that,” was the answer.
And then the two young men crossed the deck and leaned over the side, peering out into the darkness; but seeing nothing for all that, though there was the faint sound of oars dipping slowly, and it was evident that some boat was nearing them.
“Do they mean to board us?” said Murray. “Depend upon it, the man-of-war has boats on the lookout, and they’re rowing with muffled oars, ready to overhaul the escaping party; that is, if any of them have got loose.”
“That’s it, depend upon it,” said the mate. “They’ll hail us directly. They must see our lights.”
There was silence then for a few moments, during which two or three of the crew, attracted also by the noise they had heard, came over to their side. Then came the plash of an oar; and, starting into activity, as if moved by some sudden impulse, Murray shouted:
“Boat ahoy!”
“Ahoy, there!” was the answer.
And then the rowing was heard plainly, as if those who handled the oars had thrown off the secrecy of their movements.
“It’s the man-of-war’s boat,” said the second mate.