So he followed in the master's footsteps, taking care, however, to keep a good distance between them. At length he reached the entrance. He waited a minute or two, then cautiously lifted the circular piece of wood that covered the entrance, and made his way through the undergrowth to the open.
By that time Mr. Weevil had disappeared from view.
"Am I awake or dreaming?" Paul asked himself, as he drew a deep breath of relief.
It seemed, indeed, like a dream—or, rather, a nightmare—that cave, the two conspirators, the conversation he had overheard about the taking of Sheerness by the Dutch, the advance on Upnor Castle, and, lastly, the appearance on the scene of Mr. Weevil.
What was he to do? How was he to act? He was face to face with the same dilemma that had confronted him when Hibbert had confessed to him his relationship to Zuker. The more he thought of it, the more difficult it seemed to move. He was bound hand and foot by the promise he had made to Hibbert. How could he be false to that promise—how could he give information which might cause his death?
Strange to say, his confidence in Mr. Weevil had grown by what he had overheard at that interview. It was true enough that the master seemed involved in some way in the schemes of Zuker, but it seemed equally certain that he was against them. The words he had overheard were still ringing in his ears: "You wish to drive me back to the Fatherland, and keep all to yourself, my boy—the boy of your dead sister!" Things seemed clearer to Paul. The master's purpose seemed clearer. It was his love for his nephew—for Hibbert—which had involved him in the schemes of Zuker. Paul had disliked and suspected Mr. Weevil, but, curiously enough, he now seemed to understand better than ever he had understood before, and that understanding was to the advantage rather than the disadvantage of the master.
"The hand of a Higher than man is in it." Those were the master's words. They had been spoken from his heart; there was no doubt of that. Though they had failed to move Zuker, they had moved Paul strangely. Yes; the hand of a Higher than man was in it, and the designs of Zuker would certainly be overturned.
"I wish Mr. Moncrief had answered my letter, though," he said to himself, as he returned to the school. It must have miscarried. He determined to question Hibbert about it again that very evening.
So when the evening came he went to the sick-room, and the nurse, who was now in attendance, gladly vacated her place at the bedside to him. As usual, Hibbert had been looking forward to Paul's visit, and the thin white face was at once all sunshine.
"I'm feeling ever so much better," he said, in answer to Paul's inquiries. "I'm feeling quite strong. I shall soon be out again if I go on like this. Do you think the fellows will be pleased to see me?"