“Where did you find that musket, Rose, and what have you done with it?” inquired Harry, as soon as he had looked in every place he thought likely to hold such an implement.
“Musket, Harry! I have had no musket, though the report of fire-arms, near by, awoke me from a sweet sleep.”
“Is this possible! I had imprudently trusted myself on the other side of the light-house, while the moon was behind clouds, and when they broke suddenly away its light betrayed me to those on board the brig. Spike fired at me twice, without injuring me; when, to my astonishment, an answering report was heard from the islet. What is more, the piece was charged with a ball cartridge, for I heard the whistling of the bullet as it passed on its way to the brig.”
“And you supposed I had fired that musket?”
“Whom else could I suppose had done it? You are not a very likely person to do such a thing, I will own, my love, but there are none but us two here.”
“It must be Jack Tier,” exclaimed Rose suddenly.
“That is impossible, since he has left us.”
“One never knows. Jack understood how anxious I was to retain him with us, and he is so capricious and full of schemes, that he may have contrived to get out of the brig, as artfully as he got on board her.”
“If Jack Tier be actually on this islet, I shall set him down as little else than a conjurer.”
“Hist!” interrupted Rose, “what noise is that in the direction of the wharf? It sounds like an oar falling in a boat.”