They listened attentively, and once more could plainly make out the soft smothered dip of oars floating across the water.
Ten minutes passed, and then, as the crew stood with beating hearts waiting for the next assault, there came another hail out of the darkness.
“What ship’s that?”
“Never you mind!” answered the captain roughly. “What boat’s that?”
“First cutter—his Majesty’s ship Theseus,” was the reply. “Heard or seen anything of a boat, or boats, this way?”
“Nearly boarded by one, only we beat them off,” said the captain. “Convicts, weren’t they?”
“Hold hard a minute, and I’ll come on board,” was the answer. “Bows there—in oars, men!” and the boat was heard to thump against the vessel’s counter.
“Keep down there,” shouted the captain, cocking a pistol, “or I fire!”
“Confound you! don’t I tell you we’re friends?” said the same voice.
“Yes, you tell me,” muttered the captain. “Bring a lantern here.”