The spy waited in silence for a time; then he uttered a low, mournful cry like that of a night-bird haunting the water’s edge. There was a brief pause; then the sound was repeated from the river.
“It is a most excellent thing,” observed Pennington, “to have an aide who can be depended upon at all times.”
“That remark,” said Scarlett, “is almost exactly similar to one that I once heard from the old Elector of Hanover. He said——”
“Sh-h-h!” warned Pennington. “Not so loud.”
Scarlett at once ceased speaking. Again they stood in silence; then the faint dip of oars reached them. A little later a low voice asked inquiringly:
“For whom?”
“For King George,” replied Pennington promptly. Then the low-pitched voice resumed:
“Is that you, Mr. Pennington?”
“Yes, with some friends.”
The spy, followed by Scarlett and Ezra, climbed into the skiff; it was manned by four sailor-like men, who at once pushed off.