“And Mr Belton here fancies it might be a spy from the Sirius to see if we were on the watch,” said Roylance.
“Impossible! they would not play us such a trick. Stop, it might be from the enemy—a boat landing men to see what we are about. But where?” he said, excitedly. “They couldn’t have landed where we did, because there are two men on the watch, and I don’t think there is any other place. Let’s see.”
Orders were given, the men seized their arms, and after a few admonitory words had been whispered, a search commenced, anything but an adequate one, for the task was one of risk, and the men had to proceed with the greatest caution, so as not to make a false step and go over the side, either into the sea or down one of the cracks and rifts into which the rock was cleft.
This went on for a couple of hours, during which the men on the watch were certain that no one had landed, and at last the weary sailors felt ready to endorse the remark of Terry, which somehow became spread among them, that it was only a trick of the captain’s son to set them on the alert.
At last this came to the lieutenant’s ears, and he called Syd and Roylance aside.
“Was this some prank?” he said, sternly.
“I would not be guilty of such a trick, sir,” said Syd, warmly. “It would have been unfair to the men, who were tired, and an insult to you, sir.”
“Of course it would, gentlemen,” said the lieutenant. “I beg your pardon.”
He went away, feeling rather uneasy, and set watches in two more places, with orders to fire at the slightest alarm. Then in turn with Terry he visited the posts during the early part of the night, and in turn with Roylance during the latter part, the anxieties of the new command keeping him on the alert.
As for Syd, he sat talking to Roylance for a time after going up to a point where on the one side they could see the lights of the ship as she lay to in the offing, and on the other, very dimly, the distant lamps of the town of Saint Jacques, or those at the head of its harbour.