They were sitting on either side of the opening, watchfully regarding the ship. Martin, in response to the hunchback's importuning, had just briefly related the details of the previous night's misfortune, and he now summarized the situation on board as he knew or guessed it.
"The foc'sle crowd is locked in the hold—you see the guards, one at the fore hatch, and two amidships," said Martin. "The bosun has undoubtedly broken through from the lazaret and joined the boys by this time. Captain Dabney is laid up in his room, suffering from the blow Carew gave him, and Ruth is nursing him. But her note said he has regained his sight—what does that mean, Billy?"
"I don't know," said Little Billy. "It was a shock that blinded him; perhaps another shock has cured him. But the Chink's plan, Martin! What is it? 'The noon meal.' What does that mean?"
Martin shook his head. "I wish I knew. I shouldn't think eight bells would be a good time for the boys in the hold to attempt to break out. Now, would be a good time. There are only three of the gang on guard—or four, if you count the mate, there on the poop. Another one is in the cabin with Carew. The rest must be asleep in the foc'sle. There are only nine of them left, Billy. We have accounted for six, you and I—and that hole. There are ten of our fellows in the hold. If only they were armed! I am afraid to try my scheme just yet; it might upset their plans, it might spoil everything. Her note is explicit, 'The noon meal.'"
"Your plan? We can help?" exclaimed Little Billy.
Martin inclined his head towards the bound form of their captive, lying beyond earshot. "Decoy," he said.
Understanding lighted the hunchback's face. "I see. Draw them off—some of them. Just before eight bells. Oh, I am dopey, not to have thought of that. But I can't think straight. Nerves snapping. I've worried a lot since last night. You know how it is—I didn't know what had happened, and Ruth—-"
Yes, Martin knew how it was. He smiled his understanding and sympathy, and leaned over and patted Billy's shoulder. Yes, he knew. His own nerves were snapping, when he thought of Ruth. He knew that his, and Wild Bob's, were not the only hearts enslaved by the maid of the Cohasset. And he, the accepted lover, could regard without disquiet the light that shone in Billy's eyes whenever the latter spoke of Ruth.
"I know how it is between you two," continued Little Billy. "And you—I think you know how it is with me. I—why, I'd die for her gladly. Oh, Martin, in my mind I think I died a thousand times last night."
"What happened to you last night?" inquired Martin. "How did you escape them, and get ashore?"