"Not exactly."
The rebels listened to the merry pipe of those who walked around the capstan, and heard the grating of the chain cables as they passed through the tiers into the lockers in the hold. It was plain enough that thirty-two hands had been found to man the capstan, for the anchor was certainly coming up from its miry bed. These sounds produced something like consternation among the mutineers, for they indicated at least a partial failure of the scheme in which they had trusted for redress.
"Go ahead!" shouted the executive officer through his trumpet.
"Go ahead?" repeated Raymond, as he went to the sky-light. "Not a sail has been set."
"But she is moving," said Hyde. "I see how it is. They have taken a tug-steamer."
"They are not going to tow the ship to Belfast," answered Raymond, as he went to one of the port gangways from which the mess-rooms opened. "There goes the Josephine, under sail. In my opinion, they are only dropping down to another anchorage. The principal will not think of such a thing as going to sea with only thirty seamen. It isn't safe to do so."
"When it isn't safe, Peaks will be down here, and you will have to turn out and do duty," said Hyde.
At that instant, as if to verify the prophecy of the croaker, the stalwart boatswain, with the assistance of the carpenter, lifted the grating off the main hatch. Most of the rebels retreated to their rooms; but it was a false alarm, for the two adult seamen, instead of coming below themselves, only lifted up the ladder, and drew it on deck, restoring the grating when it was done.
"That looks like something," said Lindsley.
"I tell you we are sold," added Hyde. "The principal isn't coming down here to ask us for an explanation. It isn't his style."