A light moved, swaying along the deck, and then went down out of sight.
“That’ll be the last, I cal’ate,” said Bill. “Skipper, likely. Now she be castin’ off. Can you see her light, mates?”
They couldn’t for a moment, but presently it appeared and moved, rising and falling, and once they thought they heard the beat of the engine as the life-boat fought her way off the shore and headed seaward.
“Aye, a good job, shipmates!” shouted Bill Glass as the bow light was lost to them. “God bless ye for brave boys!” He turned and led the way back toward the tent. Eastward there was a lightening of the horizon that told of the coming day. Back in the tent Bill blew out his lantern.
“If I be n’t in the way, mates,” he said, “I’ll just stop here for a bit. It’ll soon be mornin’ an’ I be anxious to see what kind o’ a fix that boat be in.”
“Make yourself at home,” said Jack heartily. “Take this blanket and put it around you. Want to lie down here and have a nap?”
“No, no, I’ll just sit her an’ smoke a pipe, thank ye. But you best be havin’ a sleep.”
“I don’t know about sleeping,” said Bee tiredly, “but I guess I’ll lie down awhile. Will you wake me, if I should go to sleep, Jack?”