Juan had then crept round to the northern cliff, and discovered that the two guns which had played on the cave during the day were left in charge of two men. Dennis was somewhat surprised that the main camp of the enemy had not been made there instead of on the southern cliff, until he remembered that only on the latter were there springs of fresh water.
"'Tis as I feared, you see," he said to Turnpenny. "The boat returns to the ship at night—just as the boat was wont to return to your lumber-ship. It was but a poor hope, and that is dashed."
"And so 'tis. The only thing that we poor souls could do would be to crawl out by the hole, and fetch a long compass to the cliff yonder where the guns be, and blow them up for the knaves. If there be but two men guarding them, 't'ud be no hard feat."
Dennis did not reply. He seemed to have fallen into a brown study.
"I'se warrant I could do it, with Tom Copstone and Juan, and maybe another of the maroons. 'T'ud not save us, to be sure, but 't'ud at least give the knaves a turn, od rabbit en!"
"Amos," said Dennis with apparent inconsequence, "if you were a Spanish officer——"
"God forbid, sir!" interrupted the seaman, fervently.
"It is impossible, I own. Still, if you were a Spanish officer aboard that vessel yonder, and in the blackest hour of night you heard a great uproar on this island, and saw the flashing of guns, what would you do?"
"I'fecks, I would think there was a rare randy afoot, and straightway lower a boat and come with all speed ashore to lend a hand."
"And you, Copstone,—what would you do?"