“Then now we all understand each other,” said Blunt sternly. “I have only this more to say—that as soon as it is dark three parts of you will lie down to sleep. I shall place sentries to give the alarm if the enemy come on in the night. Then every man will run to his post, and Heaven help us all to do our best!”
A tremendous cheer greeted the close of Blunt’s speech, and after giving all present a sharp gratified look, with a nod of the head, Blunt turned to his young companion.
“Come along,” he said. “You and I will go and order poor Wing down, and keep a lookout from the little bastion while he comes and has his tea.”
“Yes, quick!” said Stan; “my conscience has been smiting me all the time you were talking, but of course I could say nothing then.”
“Of course not I had quite forgotten him. I had so much else to think about. Now then, take your rifle. Here’s mine. We must make these our companions now.”
Stan obeyed the order he had received, following his companion’s example as Blunt took his rifle from the corner where he had placed it; and together they stepped out into the shelter behind the wall, then climbed over on to the wharf, looked at the broad, clear river, bright in the evening glow, but with nothing visible to mar its peaceful beauty, and then as they reached the end of the wall—
“We shall have no enemy to-night,” said Blunt.
“Why do you say that?”
“Because we can see for miles, and there is not a sign of danger. They will not surprise us; they want daylight for their attack.—Ahoy, there! Wing! See anything?”
There was no reply.