“Ramsden! Here, my man; come along, they’re not in there.”
“Hear that, Jem? Mr Jones.”
“Oh yes, I hear,” growled Jem. “He don’t know yet; but wait a bit till old Ram tells him.”
“We couldn’t slip out yet, Jem?”
“No; o’ course not. They’d see us now. Look!”
Jem was about to draw back, but feeling that a movement might betray them, Don held him fast, and they stood there in the shadow of the cave, looking on, for the boatswain’s head appeared as he drew himself up the precipitous place, and then stepped on the shelf.
“Here, come out, sir! Are you asleep? Hah!”
He caught sight of the prostrate sailor, and bent down over him.
“Why, Ramsden, man!” he cried, as he tore open his sailor’s shirt and placed his hand upon his throat.
Then, starting up, he sent forth a tremendous hail.