“But your injuries are such as sent you into hospital.”
“Where I warn’t going to stay, sir. Been up to the flagstaff, sir?”
“I have just come from there, and I have been with Mr Roylance, and had a talk with Mr Dallas. All’s well.”
“Seems well, Mr Syd, sir,” whispered the boatswain, so as not to be heard by the men; “but I’m sure all aren’t well. They’re trying to dodge us, sir, and you see if they don’t come and board us just afore daylight, when they think we’re asleep. Tell them chaps at the look-out to keep their eyes open, and be on the kwe weave, as the Frenchies call it, for boats sneaking up in the dark. You’ve got two there.”
“Yes, Strake, and each man has a glass, and those very instructions.”
“What a horficer he will make,” muttered the boatswain; and then the watch went on, with the men peering through the transparent darkness at the waves heaving over the little natural pier, and the bright stars broken up into spangles on the smooth surface of the sea.
“Rather queer about Terry,” said Roylance in a whisper, as Syd joined him where he was leaning over the rough parapet, watching the surface for the first sign of the enemy.
“Very,” said Syd.
“I can’t understand it.”
“I can,” thought Syd, as he recalled what he had seen; and in the full belief that his messmate was heartily ashamed of his treacherous conduct of the previous day, he went softly up to find the lieutenant sleeping peacefully. He stood looking at him for a few moments, and then went up to the empty battery, to stand looking down over the precipice, before gazing up towards the flagstaff.