"We have to settle those two sentries—Jones and I will do that. You, Glover, cast off one of the boats and get her alongside."
The steam-boat had shot across to the other side, the drunken man had gone staggering up the path, and then we heard the engines working again and heard the guard-boat going up harbour, the thud of her engines getting fainter and fainter in the night.
"Now wriggle along through the grass till I tell you to stop."
Even as the Commander gave this order he gave a warning hiss, and we sank down in the grass, for the two sentries, more concerned about the noises the coxswain had described than the officer was, or perhaps anxious for something to do to pass the time, lighted a lantern, and, coming down the steps, began walking along the path towards us.
"The Lord hath delivered them into our hands," the Commander muttered piously. "Jones, you seize the one with the lantern—by the throat, mind you—I'll seize the other. You put out the light, Glover, and stand by to help. Not a word and no noise."
Chattering to themselves they came along swinging the lantern unconcernedly. Perhaps they had expected to find that a goat had fallen down and broken his neck, and hoped to make a good supper of its strong meat. At any rate, they were not the least on their guard, and were quite unarmed.
I was much too excited to feel frightened.
They were examining the face of the cliff, holding the lantern up to find the cause of the noises, and as we were lying in the grass on the other side of the path they never even saw us.
As they passed, Jones and the Commander jumped up and sprang at them. One gave a funny hoot like an owl—it was the Commander's man, I think. The man Jones tackled never made a sound except a gurgle, and both went down like stones. I seized the lantern as it fell and blew it out, whilst they dragged the two Chinamen into the long grass.
Jones's man seemed to be giving the most trouble, so I tore up a handful of coarse grass and stuffed it in between his jaws. Then, Jones holding him by the neck all the time, I unwound a long sash or belt he had round his waist and bound his arms. Jones bound his feet together with his knife lanyard, and he lay perfectly still like a log, not making a sound.