Syd walked straight to the lower gun, descended a rope-ladder, which had been made and slung down for their convenience, and found the little group on the natural pier.
“Mr Terry, a word, please, with you.”
“With me? yes,” said the midshipman, looking at him wonderingly as he followed his young companion aside. “What is it?”
“You have forgotten that you are under arrest, sir,” said Syd. “I know it may seem absurd,” he added quickly, as he saw Terry smile, “but it would be the captain’s wish that good discipline should be kept up on the rock. Be good enough to stay with the men.”
“Oh, this is too—I beg your pardon, Mr Belton,” cried Terry, mastering an outbreak of passion, and speaking in a cold, formal way. “You are right, sir; I’ll go back.”
He went off at once, with Syd watching him till he had mounted the rope-ladder, where he paused to speak to the men by the gun, and then went on up the gap.
“One don’t feel as if he was to be trusted,” said Syd to himself, wearily. “He is too easy and obedient, and I’m afraid he hates me. I wish he was in command instead. It would be much easier for me, and I feel such a boy.”
A shout behind him made him start and look round, to see that Rogers, who had been seated on the edge of a piece of stone waiting patiently, had now started up, and was playing at tug with a fish he had hooked—one which was splashing about on the top of the water as the man began to haul in his long line.
All at once, as the silvery sides of the fish were seen flopping about, the water parted and a long, lithe, snaky-looking creature flashed out like lightning, seized the hooked fish, and flung itself round it in a complete knot, making Rogers cease hauling, and watch what was going on in dismay.
“Haul, my man, haul! You’ll get them both,” cried Syd, excitedly; and two other men who were looking on ran to help.