“My men say they have searched thoroughly,” said the governor. “Every ledge and crack is well known. There can be no one here.”
“Shall we patrol the place a little longer?”
The governor was silent for a few moments, and then, feeling that all possible had been done, he gave the word for the search to be given up, but sent half a dozen men to patrol the road leading to the mainland, feeling all the while that it was a hopeless task.
By this time the last man had climbed up from the dangerous cliff side, the ropes were coiled, and the party marched off toward the prison—the governor last—leaving the sentinel warder to his beat with the company of another man.
These two stood in silence till the footsteps had died out on the rocky path and the last blue light had ceased to send golden drops into the hissing water as the boats made for the man-of-war.
“Black night’s work this, Jem,” said the companion sentry. “Two of ’em gone and three wounded.”
“No, no; not so bad as that.”
“Yes, bad as that. Yon chap on the stretcher won’t see to-morrow morning, and that other poor chap who shrieked when we fired went into the water like a stone. It was your shot did that.”
“Ugh! I hope not,” said the warder, with a shudder. “Seems to me time I tried another way of getting my bread and cheese. Hark!”
“What at?”