“Looks as if he were going to be hung,” said Roylance, quietly.
“Yes, the spars have an ugly look with that rope hanging down. I almost wish I had put a man up by the other gun.”
“What for? I tell you we can go to sleep in peace to-night.”
“With poor Mr Dallas like that?”
“Forgotten him for the moment. No; of course one of us will take the watch, unless Terry comes down and turns civil. There, hi! look at that! look at that.”
Bang!—The report of the sentry’s pistol as Syd and Roylance had started trotting down towards the gun at the lower end.
In an instant the men about the fire had leaped up, and stood ready for any action by their arms.
“Did you see it, my man?” panted Syd.
“Ay, ay, sir; came running along like a big tiger from up yonder by the fire, and I fired at it, and then it was gone.”
“Did you see which way it went?”