All was silent there, and though I listened for a few minutes, there did not seem to be any one stirring on deck, so I turned back to Mr Frewen, who was now standing by the cot, with his hands under the blanket, and offered him the knife.
“I believe there are pistols inside, Dale,” he whispered.
“I’m sure of it,” I said. “Open it quick. I’ll stand on this side.”
He now stood between the parcel and the cabin-door so as to shelter our treasure, which was turned out of the canvas the next minute, and proved to be the weapons named, a pair that I remembered to have seen in Captain Berriman’s cabin, and with them plenty of ammunition.
“Loaded!” whispered Mr Frewen. “Be careful with yours.”
“Mine?” I said.
“Yes; one is for you, and I hope you will not have to use it; but these are stern times, Dale, and we must not be squeamish now.”
After a few moments’ consideration, it was decided to hide one pistol at the foot of the cot, and the other beneath a quantity of drugs in the big medicine-chest which stood in one corner of the cabin.
“Hah!” said my companion, smiling for the first time for days. “I begin to feel a little more hopeful now, Dale. You and I are going to take the ship yet. That was Hampton’s work, of course?”
“Sure to be,” I said, and we now began to turn over every plan we could think of for getting our freedom.