"What do you think Norris can be up to?" I said.
"Ah!" returned Marat, "Thad Englishman, he got some buzz in hees bonnet. He ver' good man. He—"
"There thee light!" said Carlos.
I looked, and out of the black harbor, dotted with anchor lights, there appeared a wee flashing, repeated at frequent intervals. We answered with a few flashes from our lantern. Then Robert's signal ceased.
The mule was put to the cart again, and we returned to our boat.
There was Norris, waiting. He sat on the bow of the small boat, twirling his thumbs. While we were transferring our property from the cart to the boat again, I noted a pair of white men seated in a flatboat of some bulk, lying nose on the beach, nearby. When we started for the Pearl, Norris made a gesture to the two men who immediately followed with their boat in our wake.
"What have you got there?" I asked of Norris.
"Oh, that's just a couple of dagos doing a job for me," Norris answered.
"The Orion's gone," said Robert, as we drew near the Pearl.
We threw our outfit aboard. And then Norris unlashed the block from the main gaff and swung it down to the "Dagos," who had come alongside with their boat. They hitched the tackle to a tarpaulin-wrapped article. From its shape, it might be a piece of cordwood. When that had been pulled aboard, the block went down into the boat again, and soon up came a gun carriage. It was that type so much seen in the old fortifications, the supports of wood, with small wheels at the base. Next came about fifty rounds of, perhaps, two-pound balls, and powder in kegs, not forgetting ram-rod and swabber.