“So did I,” I replied; “and it is my belief, Tompion, that what we saw is neither more nor less than the phosphorescent flash of oars in the water. If I am not mistaken there is a boat out there trying to steal down and catch us unawares. Just go to the men, please, and pass the word for them to go quietly to quarters, and see that the starboard broadside guns are loaded with grape.”
Courtenay just then emerged from the companion with a lighted cigar in his mouth, which he had helped himself to in the brief interval of rest following the floating of the schooner. The spark at the end of the weed glowed brightly in the intense darkness, and could probably be seen for a considerable distance.
“Dowse that cigar, Courtenay, quick!” I exclaimed, as I moved to his side, “and tell me if you can hear or see anything over there.”
Instinctively guessing at an alarm of some kind from the quarter I had indicated, my shipmate stepped to the opposite side of the deck, dropped his cigar over the rail, and rejoined me.
“Now then, what is it, Lascelles?” he asked; “is there anything wrong? and why are the men mustering at quarters?”
“Look over in that direction, and see if you can find an explanation,” said I.
Unconsciously imitating Tompion in the attitude he assumed, Courtenay stood intently gazing into the darkness for a full minute or more, without result. He had turned to me and was about to speak when a faint crack, like the breaking of a thole-pin, was heard, the sound being accompanied by a very distinct luminous splash of the water.
“Ha!” exclaimed Courtenay, “there is a boat over there at no great distance from us!” and at the same moment Fidd came barefooted and noiselessly to my side with the question:
“Did ye see and hear that, sir?”
“Ay, ay, Mr Fidd, I saw it. Are the starboard guns loaded?”