“The time has come,” said he. “Mr Bowles, get a piece of rope, lash that fellow hands and heels together, and gag him. The rest of you get our few traps together; tell the ladies to do the same; and let all muster down at the landing as quickly as possible. I’m off to warn Dickinson and the rest, and to release the captain and Mr Evelin. Ah! I may as well take these,” as his eye fell upon a brace of revolvers in Ralli’s belt. He withdrew the weapons, hastily examined them by the light of the lamp to ascertain whether they were loaded or no, found that they were; and then, repeating his injunctions as to rapidity of action, he slipped the pistols one into each pocket, opened the door, and disappeared in the darkness.
Once fairly clear of the house, Bob paused for a minute or two to collect his thoughts. Then he walked on again toward the large building in which the men were housed, and on reaching it coolly thrust his head in at the open door, and looked round as though in search of someone.
“Well, matey, what is it?” asked one of the pirates.
“Is Dickinson here?” inquired Bob boldly.
“I think he is,” was the reply. “Yes, there he is, over there. Here, Dickinson! you’re wanted.”
“Ay, ay,” answered Dickinson. “Who wants me?”
“I do,” answered Bob. “Mr Ralli says you’re to shift over at once.”
This was simply a form of words which had been agreed on when Dickinson paid his midnight visit to the cottage, and meant that the moment for action had arrived, and that a muster was to be made at the landing-place.
The sudden summons took Dickinson rather by surprise, though he had been schooling himself to expect it at any moment; he instantly recovered himself, however, and rising to his feet with a well-assumed air of reluctance asked:
“Does he mean that we are to go now—to-night?”