“Yes,” answered the other, “quiet enough. But I’d rather spend it in my hammock than watching the lights on the water.”
“I wonder what it is that this government fellow Danvers is up to.”
“I don’t know. I don’t even think the skipper knows.”
“He must be well thought of at the admiralty, shipmate, to have a schooner placed at his service like this.”
“Ay! You’re right there. But it’s government work he’s on; those two prisoners he took on St. Mary’s Isle seem mighty important to him.”
“Did you hear where he took ’em? Up to old Meg Rawlins’. She’s the widow of old Rawlins the smuggler; Ben Kaye was in the party that went there; he said the boy and the Irishman were locked in cells in the underground vault where Rawlins used to hide his ‘run’ goods.”
“I wonder why he didn’t take ’em to a reg’lar government prison?”
“Private reasons, I guess. These secret service agents are queer fish, mate.”
The men continued to talk in the same strain for some little time. Ethan and Longsword crouched behind the hanging net and listened.
“I say,” remarked one, at last, “suppose we take a walk up the pier and see if they are coming. My eyes are closing for want of sleep.”
“Oh, let it take care of itself. There is no one awake here in this sleepy old town. And then who wants a few old government cutlasses and pistols?”
The two seamen started up the pier; and as they disappeared in the shadows, Ethan and the Irish soldier crept from behind the net.
“Cutlasses and pistols in the boat,” whispered Longsword with a joyous chuckle.
“It couldn’t be better,” said Ethan. “In with you, now; and we’ll push off.”
They clambered into the jolly-boat that was tied to a ring in the wharf log. Ethan cast off, placed the blade of an oar against one of the piles, and with a strong shove sent the craft well clear of the pier. But they had scarcely placed the oars into the rowlocks and settled themselves for the pull out of the cove when they heard running feet coming down the pier and the sound of angry voices.
“It’s Danvers!” cried Ethan. “Pull, Shamus!”
They bent to their oars manfully and the jolly-boat shot away from the wharf, just as a shadowy group appeared through the darkness.
“The boat!” cried the voice of Danvers. “It’s gone!”