Mr Raydon went on first and I followed, Grey bringing up the rear. I was hurt, for it was evident that Mr Raydon’s ideas of my character were poor indeed, and that at the slightest thing he was ready to suspect me of any enormity. But as I paced on quickly behind him I grew more lenient in my judgment, for I was obliged to own that my position was not a satisfactory one. I had not returned as I should have done, and when I was found, it was in company with a gang of men who were about to attack and pillage the Fort.
I had no farther time for thoughts like these. We were gaining rapidly on the gang now, and in a few minutes’ time we could hear footsteps, and then they had suddenly ceased, and a whispering began, as if the leader of the party were giving orders.
Mr Raydon touched me to make out that I was close up, and I felt Grey take his position on the other side, while my heart beat so loudly that I half thought it might be heard.
All at once Mr Raydon pressed on my shoulder, and leaned over me to whisper to Grey.
“They ought to have heard this approach,” he whispered. “This is not keeping good watch.”
“Dark—very quiet,” said Grey, in what sounded to me like a remonstrant tone; and directly after a loud clear voice rang out from the block-house at the left-hand corner near the gate.
“Who goes there? Halt, or I fire.”
A low murmur arose in front of us, and Mr Raydon drew a deep breath, as if relieved. Then there was a quick advance, the flash of a rifle, and the sharp clear report.
“Only one,” cried a hoarse voice. “Too dark to see. Over with you, boys!”
Bang! Another shot; and then, as I panted with excitement, Mr Raydon whispered—