Roylance lay down under the sail, covering himself with his boat-cloak, and was asleep directly; while Sydney, after another glance at Dallas, who seemed to be sleeping quietly, placed his pistols in his belt, and went out to visit the watch.
Chapter Twenty Eight.
As Syd stood outside the effect was very curious. The wind was blowing with hurricane violence, and in a dull distant way the sea was breaking wave after wave against the rocks, but where he stood there was hardly a breath of air. Then with the novelty of his sensations increasing, and feeling that all this seemed to him like a dream from which he would awake in the morning, he walked to where the watch was posted, and started a little on seeing two figures in the darkness instead of one.
“On’y me, Mr Belton, sir,” came in the boatswain’s gruff growl. “Rogers here felt it a bit lonesome like with no company but a long gun. And look ye here, mate,” he whispered to the man, “don’t you never forget to reload arter you’ve fired your pistol.”
“Seen or heard anything more?” said Syd, making an effort to keep up his new dignity.
“No, sir. Fancied I did once, but it warn’t nothing.”
“Blowing very hard, bo’sun.”
“Well, sir, tidy, tidy; most a capful o’ wind. Thought I’d come and stay with him, sir,” he whispered, as they walked aside to gaze out to sea; “bit scared like arter seeing that there thing again.”