“This is insufferable,” cried Terry, who felt clothed in authority as second officer of the expedition, and striding away, he found out the lieutenant, and stated what he had seen.
“He had no business here, Mr Terry,” said the lieutenant, quietly; “but of course we can do nothing to-night.”
“If we signalled for a boat, sir?”
“One would come and fetch him off, but would create unnecessary alarm. And look here, Mr Terry, is it not time you forgot old sores, and became good friends with your messmates?”
“I don’t understand you, sir,” said Terry, haughtily. “Then I’ll try and be plainer,” said the lieutenant, rather sharply. “Don’t you think it is a pity that you should let your enmity to Mr Belton make you jump at a chance to do him a bad turn?”
“I came here, sir, to do my duty, and I reported misconduct on the part of one of the midshipmen.”
“Who once gave you a good thrashing, Mr Terry, for playing the bully. There, there, my good lad, forget and forgive, and don’t try and usurp my duties here. I will look after Mr Belton.”
“Such confounded favouritism to the captain’s son!” muttered Terry; but it was loud enough for the lieutenant to hear, and he exclaimed, hotly—
“And if you dare to say such a thing as that again, sir, I’ll clap you under arrest, and put Mr Belton in your place.” Terry slunk off and stood about sulking till the men had finished, and were then set to work to make a temporary shelter for the night, which was quickly done by tying the edges of the sails they had brought to some spars, and resting these against the perpendicular side of the rock in the cleft, thus forming a lean-to, which was spacious enough to cover the men and the stores and ammunition already protected by the tarpaulins thrown over them.
Roylance and Syd were standing together in the darkness, watching the men arranging the spars and hauling the canvas tight, when Syd laid his hand upon his companion’s arm.