There was a sob in his throat as he uttered those last words, and then a terrible silence fell upon them.
“Have you boys placed the cask and chest in the fireplace?” said the captain out of the darkness.
There was a rush to the chimney, and the dangerous spot was blocked up, each working hard to make up for what seemed to be a dangerous neglect on his part.
“But suppose poor old Shanter comes back,” whispered Tim, “and tries to get in that way when he finds the door fastened.”
“He wouldn’t come near in the dark,” said Norman with a sigh; and then to himself, “even if he was alive.”
Once more silence where the three boys were guarding the back of the premises, and then there was a faint rustling noise, followed by the sharp click, click of guns being cocked.
“Who’s that?” whispered Rifle.
“Only I, my boys,” said Mrs Bedford in a low voice, and she kissed each in turn, and clung to the sturdy lads for a few moments. “Your father wishes me to go now and leave you. God bless and protect you!”
She stole away again, and the two girls came in turn to say good-night, and then go away again to watch or sleep as they could.
“I don’t care,” muttered Tim, rebelliously. “I say Shanter wouldn’t go and sneak away like that.”