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"No," he whispered; "if it comes to the worst, and Jarette and his scoundrels are making for here, I shall put the muzzle of my gun to the touch-hole and fire it." "Won't it blow the priming away?" I said. "No; it will fire the piece instantly." "I hope he will not have to try," I thought to myself as I ran to Walters' cabin, and told him of the fight to come. "And I can't help," he moaned.
But the greater part of my attention was taken up by the lights dimly visible on board the ship, where I tried to picture what was going on in the cabin where Mr Denning and his sister were prisoned. Jarette would, I know, have taken possession of the guns, but without doubt Mr Denning would have kept the little revolver which I knew he wore hidden about his person.
Jarette was talking quickly to a group of the men about him, but I hardly heard what he said, my attention being fixed upon my plan of escape, till I heard Jarette say "Wait till daylight then, my lads, and we'll soon have them all out of there." "All out of there," could only mean the people out of the cabin.
"Jarette may be waiting somewhere close at hand with his two boats, till he has seen the last of the ship. We have had troubles enough; we do not want to increase them by a fresh encounter with the scoundrel." So there we sat watching, with the dull smouldering still going on in the hold of the ship.
Then it was pointed and fired at Jarette not at me missing him though, but making him lose his foot-hold, and fall with a heavy splash into the sea. "Hurray!" yelled Bob.
This happened, and I feared that he would notice the cuts in the tarpaulin, but he went on, the footsteps grew fainter, and I fancied that I heard them continue on the ladder as the man ascended to the poop-deck. "Could you tell who that was, Bob?" I said. "Ay, sir. No mistaking that pair o' legs. They don't go like an Englishman's would. That was old Jarette."
"Come and open it yourself, you half-French poodle hound," cried the captain, "and I'll show you what stuff I'm made of, and save you the trouble of going through a trial before reaching the hangman." "You bragging idiot," cried Jarette, fiercely, "open the door, or I'll serve you as we served your miserable Brymer. Do you want to go overboard to join him?"
It was not a minute, but long enough to deprive me of the chance of finding out whether there were arms in the cabin, for as I hesitated I heard a light step overhead, and knew that Jarette was returning from his uneasy round. The probability was that he would now come into the saloon. Where should I go!
There was not a moment to lose, and my first impulse was to dart forward into the captain's cabin a mad idea, for the chances were that Jarette would come right through the saloon and enter it.
"Silence below there!" shouted Jarette. "I'll give him his answer. There!"
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