Tregarthen glanced at his watch. It was a quarter to twelve.
"Smith!" he called out, addressing one of the petty officers.
"Sir?"
"Pass the word for the men to take off their bandoliers, empty the magazines of their rifles, and stow the cartridges under yonder tree."
Without betraying his surprise at the unusual order the man hurried off to communicate Gerald's instructions. Implicit obedience was Smith's sheet anchor.
"There, I've taken every possible precaution," mused the young officer. "Now things must take their course."
As the minutes slowly sped the tension amongst the seamen increased. Even the savages seemed to have an inkling that something extraordinary was afoot.
Watch in hand Gerald waited till the long hand pointed at a minute to the hour.
"Look!" he shouted, pointing to the distant crag.
The natives, although they did not understand the word, followed the direction indicated, and a tense deathly silence seemed to fill the air.