“No,” he said, to Don’s great relief; “I can’t afford to run risks for the sake of a pair of pistols.”
“Let me go in,” said the man.
“I’m not going to send men where I’m afraid to go myself,” said the boatswain bluntly. “Come on down.”
The boatswain led the way, and Ramsden was helped down, the man who had volunteered to go in the cavern to fetch the pistols manoeuvring so as to be last, and as soon as the party had disappeared over the shelf he gave a glance after them, and turned sharply.
“Foul air won’t hurt me,” he said; and he dived right in rapidly to regain the pistols and cutlass, so as to have the laugh of his messmates when they returned on board.
Chapter Thirty Three.
Another Alarm.
“It’s all over,” thought Don, as the man came on, with discovery inevitable if he continued at his present rate. They were about fifty feet from the entrance, and they felt that if they moved they would be heard; and, as if urged by the same impulse, they stood fast, save that Jem doubled his fist and drew back his arm ready to strike.