“Tchah! No! The major’s.”
“Didn’t think much o’ yourn anyhow,” said the man.
“Why didn’t you make one, then?” growled Billy fiercely.
“There, don’t get up a quarrel, mate,” said the man. “P’r’aps we shall all be trussed up like larks ’fore to-morrow morning; so let’s be friends.”
“Eight,” said Billy, slapping his great palm into his companion’s; and Mark smiled to himself as he thought how much these big men were like school-boys in spite of their years.
The evening drew near after what seemed to be an interminable space of time, and to the great delight of Mr Gregory there was no change in the weather. There had been every probability of a breeze springing up at sundown, but the great orange globe had slowly rolled down and disappeared in the golden west, amidst the loud barking of the hornbills and the strident shrieks of flocks of parrots, and not a breath of wind was astir. Then came down the night, a purply black darkness spangled with stars overhead and reflected in the water, and with that darkness a hot intense silence.
“Finish your pipes, my lads,” said the major, “and then we’re going afloat once more.”
The men replied with a cheery “Ay, ay, sir,” and at once extinguished their pipes in token of their readiness; and soon after, in accordance with plans made by the three officers, Small assisting at their council, the boat was safely run down through the bushes, over the sand, and away into the calmly placid sea, which wavered from her touch in golden spangles, and then in silence all embarked, the rowlocks being muffled with handkerchiefs and jacket sleeves.
It was not a long journey, but had to be taken with the greatest of caution, for the slightest sound would have betrayed their whereabouts, and, in view of this, Mr Gregory had whispered to Mark:
“I don’t want to oppose your dog coming again, Mark, but can you depend upon his being quiet?”