“Do you hear?” came in a fierce snarl,—“am I to fire?”
The voice sounded so close now that the words seemed to be shouted in my ear, and for the minute, feeling certain that he knew where I was, I drew myself up ready to drop down. But still I hesitated, though I felt perfectly certain he was looking up and pointing his pistol at me.
There was an interval of perfect silence then, save that a murmur came from below, and this encouraged me, for I felt that I must be invisible in the darkness, or else Jarette would have had me down.
Then my heart sank, for the man shouted suddenly—
“There, boy, I can see you; come out or I’ll fire.”
“Come out! Then he cannot see me,” I thought, and I clung there spasmodically, hoping still that I was unobserved.
“He’s not here,” said Jarette, sharply; “now then, one of you, I want a man at the wheel, the ship’s yawing about anyhow. Who have you there—Morris?”
“Down on guard at the cabin-door,” said a voice.
“Brook?”
“’Long with him.”