“No, sir, I don’t think it,” said Ramsden. “Those niggers looked as if they knew something, and that tattooed fellow who has run away from Norfolk Island has encouraged them to desert. As like as not they may be in here listening to all I say.”
“Well then, go in and fetch them out,” said the boatswain. “You can go in while I have a rest.”
Don’s heart beat fast at those words, for he heard a loud hissing sound beside him, caused by Jem drawing in his breath; and the next moment, as he held his arm, he felt a thrill, for it seemed as if Jem’s muscles had tightened up suddenly.
Then there was a hot breath upon his cheek, and a tickling sensation in his ear beyond; Jem’s lips seemed to settle themselves against it, and the tickling sensation was renewed, as Jem whispered,—
“I’ve cleared my decks for action, Mas’ Don. It was that beggar as told on us. You stand aside when he comes on.”
Don twisted his head round, caught Jem by the shoulder, and favoured him with the same buzzing sensation as he whispered,—
“What are you going to do?”
Jem re-applied his lips to Don’s ear.
“I’m going to make him very sorry he ever come to sea. Once I gets hold of him I’ll make him feel like a walnut in a door.”
“Don’t look a very cheerful place, Mr Jones,” came from the mouth of the cavern.