There was a loud rustling of palm leaves, and Mark Strong and Billy Widgeon sprang to their feet and stared at one another as the warm glow that precedes sunrise penetrated the cave and lit up their faces.
“What was that?”
“I don’t know. Did somebody call?”
“I—I thought I heered them things again,” said Billy in a whisper. “Why, Mr Mark, sir, you’ve been asleep!”
“I’m afraid I have. Have you?”
“Dunno, sir. Well, I suppose I have. I feel like it. But I didn’t mean to, sir.”
“Neither did I mean to,” said Mark. “I wonder I did go. How chilly it is!”
“Yes, sir, like one feels in the early watches. Why, it’s quite to-morrow morning!”
“Or this morning, Billy.”
“Yes, sir, that’s what I mean. Now, then, what’s the first thing, Mr Mark, sir? What do you say to finding a coky-nut tree? I’ll swarm up and get the nuts.”