There was another ominous silence, as all thought of our numbers.
Then Mr Frewen spoke—
“This all sounds very bad, Captain Berriman, but we are not going to give in. The ammunition and provisions are on board the ship, and when a besieged garrison runs short, it makes sallies to obtain fresh supplies. But we have not arrived at that starvation point yet. Before then the ship may be under the rule of Captain Berriman once again.”
“Hist!” I cried, in an excited whisper, and I pointed up at the sky-light, across which a shadow lay, cast by the newly-risen sun which had flooded the cabin with gold.
“Listening, eh?” said Mr Brymer, and stepping softly on one side, he took one of the guns, and, with a sudden motion, thrust it through.
There was a bound and the rush of feet as the shadow disappeared.
“A guilty conscience needs no accuser,” said the mate, laughing, “a criminal running away from an empty gun!”
“A lesson for us in being cautious in making our plans,” observed Mr Frewen. “Now, Captain Berriman, will you give us our orders?”
“My first idea is, gentlemen, that one of you stand on guard there by the door, and, if the opportunity offers, he is to shoot down that scoundrel Jarette. They’re coming. Now, on guard.”
For as he spoke there were voices heard approaching and the trampling of feet. Directly after guns were seized, and the occupants of the cabin stood ready, for the door was unfastened, and an effort made to thrust it open.