“So you did, sir; but as I thought as the brute might stick his teeth into me, I felt as you wouldn’t like me to be hurt, and so I brought ’em. You see, sir, you’ve only got one bo’sun, and it would be awkward if I was killed.”
“Look here,” whispered Syd, “I’m going up to see how Mr Dallas is. Don’t make a mistake and fire at me as I come back.”
“Don’t you be scared about that, sir,” growled the boatswain; “I’ll take care.”
“Are the men all awake?”
“Trust ’em, sir. They’ve got open eyes.”
“I shall not be long,” said Syd.
“Right, sir.”
“And be careful with that pistol, Strake. You may use it, though, if there is danger.”
“Thankye, sir,” said the boatswain, and then to himself, “I’ll use both sooner than have my eyes clawed out, and my nose chawed off.”
Syd crept quietly along among the high blocks of rock which dotted the chasm, gazing up at the quivering stars once and wishing they gave more light, and thinking of what shelter these rocks would give if the French ever did attack them and were in such numbers that they took the lower gun, and came swarming along into the gap.