“Tut, tut, tut!” cried the captain angrily, as he glanced at his watch. “When I came aboard: and it’s now half an hour later. How came you to forget?”
“Well, really, sir—” began the first mate warmly. “Tut, tut, tut! bless my heart!” cried the captain. “Really, Dellow, I beg your pardon. It quite slipped my memory.”
“Indeed, sir,” said the first officer stiffly. “It did not slip mine.”
“No. How absurd. I forgot all about Lynton. Send a boat ashore at once to fetch him off to the brig. He must be waiting.”
“No, sir, he’s not waiting, or he would have hailed,” said the first officer, as he strolled off to give the orders, while the two passengers, being tired after a very busy day, bade the captain “good night,” and went below.
“You won’t sit up to see us start, then?” said the skipper.
“No, for there will be nothing particular to see,” replied Sir Humphrey. “I’ll keep my admiration till we are well out at sea.”
“And that will be at breakfast-time to-morrow morning, gentlemen. I should not mind turning in for good myself. As it is, I’m just going down to snatch a couple of hours before Dellow comes and rouses me up.”
As Brace Leigh and his brother closed the door of their cabin the former saw the captain in the act of lying down upon one of the lockers, and as, about half an hour after, Brace lay awake listening to the strange sounds of the night which came through the open window, he distinctly heard the plash of oars, and soon afterwards the rubbing of a boat against the brig’s side, followed by sips on deck, then upon the stairs.
After that there was a rustling sound as of someone passing into a cabin and closing the door, while after a little pacing about all was still on deck, and then a cloud of darkness seemed to come suddenly over the young man’s brain, one which did not pass away for many hours, and not even then till his brother took him by the shoulder and shook him.