“Nothing, sir.”
“What! not got the boxes and bales under cover again?”
“We thought it better to leave things as they were in case the enemy returned.”
“Bah! They will not come. But look here; the ammunition must be getting very low.”
“Very, sir,” said Lawrence, with a meaning look at Stan.
“To be sure.—Here, Lynn, first thing to-morrow morning write a despatch to your father, telling him of the attack and asking for a fresh supply of cartridges. It must be sent off by Wing in the first boat you can get hold of. At Nang Ti he will soon find a steamer bound for Hai-Hai—You, Lawrence, start the first thing in the morning all hands at work to restore everything that is not damaged.”
“Yes, sir.”
“That will do. I must not talk any more. Good-night.”
To Stan’s surprise, the patient had no sooner closed his eyes than he seemed to be asleep; and it was late morning, just as Stan’s long letter was finished, and Wing, who declared himself well enough, came in to announce that he had picked up a boat from among those which had come stealing back, when Blunt opened his eyes again.
Busy days followed, with confidence returning as no further news was heard of the pirates, while the way in which the people of the nearest villages came back to their homes and work in the fields seemed to act as an endorsement of the idea that the terrible raid was over, and the likelihood of there being another attack seemed to be past.