“They have begun at the spirits,” said Mr Frewen. And then telling the two sailors to ask Mr Brymer to come and join us, the men went forward, spoke to the mate, and he came to the saloon entrance.
“Better come and join us, Brymer,” said Mr Frewen. “You want food: and we can tell by the cessation of the noise they are making when the time for action has come.”
“Oh, I can’t eat, man, at a time like this!” said the mate, excitedly.
“You must, to keep up your strength. Will Miss Denning join us?”
This to Mr Denning, who shook his head.
“No; let her stay in her cabin. She would only be in our way. I will take her in some dinner.”
“You had better keep up appearances, so that the men may not notice anything. Mr Preddle, help the soup.”
I shuddered, and every one turned pale.
“Oh, there is no risk,” said the mate quickly. “But here, make the plates and spoons look as if they had been used, and then throw all the soup out of the stern-window.”
I brightened a little at hearing this, for the possibility of the cook having made a mistake was always before my eyes. So after satisfying ourselves that the men were not likely to return yet, I was one of the busiest in dirtying the plates and spoons, and ended by emptying the soup from the window with a feeling of the most intense relief.