“At a time like this, messmets,” whispered Tom Fillot to those nearest to him, “I’d be quiet. Mr Vandean’s in a deal of trouble about the lufftenant.”
“Hi! all on you,” came sharply from the forward part of the boat, which rocked a little from some one changing his position; and as it rocked tiny waves of light like liquid moonbeams flowed away to starboard and port, while dull sparks of light appeared in the water down below.
“What’s the matter there?” said Mark, rousing himself up to speak. “Be silent, and keep the boat still.”
“Ay, ay,” growled Tom Fillot, but the boat still swayed.
“Do you hear there?” cried Mark, sharply. “Who’s that?”
“Hi! all on you!” came again.
“Did you hear my order, Dance?” cried Mark. “Sit down, man. Do you want to capsize the boat?”
“I want my hitcher,” said the man, sharply. “Who’s been a-meddling with my boathook? it ain’t in its place.”
“Sit down, man. This is not the first cutter, but one of the schooner’s boats. Your boathook is not here.”
“Do you hear, all on you? I want my hitcher. Some on you’s been and hidden it for a lark. Give it here.”