“Duff, ahoy,” cried Tompion. “That looks like a warning to us, and I think we ought to take it, and be off before the villains recover from their confusion. Pull up your starboard oars. We must give it up.”
“I am afraid so,” said Duff, imitating his senior’s example, and defeated in their object, the two boats once more steered in the direction where it was expected the Ione would be found. They were allowed to escape without further molestation, for the greater number of the pirates were engaged in watching the progress of the flames, or in endeavouring to quench them; for not only was the tower destroyed, but the fire had communicated to the building attached to it, and that also was rapidly being consumed.
Saltwell had too much anxiety on his mind to allow him to turn in to take any rest, and for the greater part of the night he had walked the deck while he beat the brig up towards the island. He became still more anxious, as the morning approached, at the non-appearance of the boats, and was continually hailing the look-outs to keep their eyes and ears open to catch any sign of their coming. Colonel Gauntlett, who, of course, was not less anxious on his niece’s account, was also constantly by his side; but the hours of night wore on, and no boats appeared. The brig stood on towards the island, for Saltwell considered that if the expedition was successful, there was no further reason for concealment, and that the nearer he got the better, and that, at all events, with the breeze which had sprung up, he could stand out of sight of land again, before daylight. The faint outline of the island, invisible to any but a seaman’s eye, at last appeared through the darkness. Several of the officers were collected together on the poop, looking towards it, as the brig now lay up on the starboard tack.
“Ah, what is that?” exclaimed Saltwell, as a bright light was seen reflected on the sky.
“Why, they have either set fire to one of their vessels, or have blown up some fort or other. That may account for the boats’ not returning.”
“I don’t think that is likely,” observed Colonel Gauntlett. “Captain Fleetwood would scarcely delay to attack the pirates with a lady in one of the boats. Would you, Mr Saltwell?”
“No, sir, I would not,” returned Saltwell. “You are right, and I do not think the captain would; but still I cannot account for the fire, and it is a large one, or we should not see it at this distance.”
“I see no reason to conclude that Captain Fleetwood has anything to do with the conflagration,” observed the colonel. “I wish we could see something of him and my little girl though. It is hazardous work he has been on, and I do not half like it. Couldn’t you fire a few guns, to give them notice of our whereabouts? I don’t see how they are to find the ship otherwise.”
“A sailor’s eye is sharper than you may suppose, colonel,” said Saltwell; “and depend on it, they will keep a sharp lookout for us. However, I will do as you propose, for the wind is off the shore, and the pirates are not likely to hear the guns. Mr Brown, fire the foremost gun on the starboard side, and the next to it in four minutes’ time.”
Directly after the order was issued, the gun sent forth its sheet of flame, and its dull sound was heard booming along the waters. Several others followed without any answering signal. The Ione had now, in Mr Saltwell’s opinion, stood long enough to the northward, or rather to the north-east, so he tacked ship, and they headed up rather more towards the island, though she soon again fell off nearly south. The larboard guns were now fired, and at last a tiny spirt of fire was seen to the eastward, and the sharp report of a musket struck on the ears.