"Keep your head down, you ass!" cautioned Kenneth. "Close to the weed. They might take your hair for seaweed, but they won't if they see your face."
For Peter in his eagerness to see what the pirate vessel was doing had neglected to take the precautions that he had only a few seconds before urged upon his chum.
Amidst the broad expanse of dark-brown kelp, the lads' hair could hardly be distinguished unless any of the crew were on the look-out for them and were sweeping the surface of the harbour by means of binoculars; but apparently the flight of the two British "firemen" had not been discovered, for none of the crew paid any attention to matters beyond those in connection with their duties on board.
The Paloma's anchor, covered with weed and shedding gallons of water, was hauled up and stowed snugly in the hawse-pipe. Her propeller gave a few flicks astern, stopped and then began to revolve steadily. The ship gathered way, steadied on her helm and headed for the narrow, cliff-bordered channel leading to the outer lagoon. A few minutes later, the intervening rocks hid her from view, although the pulsations of her engines, the sound enormously increased by the confined space between the walls of stone, remained audible for a considerable time.
"Tide's rising," declared Kenneth.
"It's slow: only about seven feet rise in six hours," rejoined his chum. "Think it safe to carry on?"
"Yes," said Kenneth. "No: hold on—look up there—a little more on your left."
Seated on a ledge of rock were four men, gazing indifferently in the direction of the departing Paloma; for from their elevated position they could command a view of the greater part of the outer lagoon, and the channel through the reefs.
Four men! That meant that a larger number had been left ashore than on the previous occasion, since one, or possibly two were supposed to be constantly on guard over the huts and storehouses. The odds were increasing.
"Think they've been warned to keep a look-out for us?" asked Peter.
"Hardly; they haven't once looked this way since we first spotted them," replied his chum. "They're merely basking in the early morning sun, bless them! I wish they'd get a move on. We can't land till they do."
"Why not?"
"'Cause we'll leave a watery trail, and on their return to the huts they're bound to cut it somewhere. Ten to one they'll keep close to the cliffs."
"We might chance it," urged Peter. "Once we can get to the base of the cliffs we are safe from observation."
"From that direction—yes," admitted Kenneth. "But supposing the guards spot us? We've cut things a bit finely. I didn't bargain on dawn so soon."
"Let's chance it, then," suggested the other. "We'll have to start swimming through the stuff if we wait much longer."
Slowly and with the utmost caution, both against being seen and being entangled in the kelp, the fugitives progressed towards the shore. After covering about twenty yards they found that the water deepened considerably, but with the compensating advantage, that the bed of weed ended abruptly. They had still about fifty yards of sunlit water to cover, with great risk of discovery should the four Spaniards happen to look in that direction.
The men, however, continued to evince a careless interest in the Paloma. They seemed in no hurry to move from their resting-place; nor did they appear to be engaged in conversation. They merely sprawled, each smoking the inevitable cigarette.
At length the swimmers reached the base of the cliffs. Here they were screened from observation, but a fresh difficulty confronted them. The water was several fathoms deep, the wall of rock rising sheer from the bed of the harbour. Although the wall was rugged and scarred by innumerable vertical fissures, there was nothing to afford means of scaling the cliff.
By this time the lads were feeling rather exhausted by their prolonged stay in the water, and by their efforts to extricate themselves from the kelp-bed. They were glad to hang on to a projection and rest.
"What now?" asked Peter. "Make for the pier-head?"
"Must; unless we can find a way up," replied his companion. "The trouble is that the nearer we get to the beach, the more likely we are to be spotted. Those fellows up there can overlook the landing-place."
"Risk it," exclaimed Arkendale. "I'm not a cross-Channel swimmer."
Again they struck out, keeping almost within arm's length of the rocks on the left. Before they had covered another fifty yards they noticed a deep but narrow cleft in the cliff, somewhat resembling what is known to mountaineers as a "chimney". There were numerous irregular projections that gave promise of a means of ascent.
"It mightn't lead to the top," objected Peter.
"P'raps not," agreed Kenneth. "'Tany rate it will take us clear of the water. After all, there's no hurry."
"Isn't there?" rejoined his chum. "I want my breakfast—even if it is only taro. Right-o: I'll go first. You keep clear in case I come a cropper."
Using hands and feet and occasionally obtaining assistance by placing his shoulders against the opposite side of the "chimney", Peter clambered up for a height of nearly twenty feet. Then he disappeared from his companion's gaze.
"All right up there?" asked Kenneth, in a low voice hardly above a husky whisper.
"Top-hole," replied Peter. "It's quite a decent sort of dug-out. Up you come."
Kenneth scrambled up, barking his knees against the hard and rugged stone, until wellnigh breathless he flung himself down upon a broad, natural bench formed by a deep horizontal recess in the cliff. The floor was roughly thirty feet in length and about ten in width at its widest part, ending flush with the face of the cliff. In one part the rock was green with lichen and moss, and there was a suspicion of a faint trickle of water.
"This is all right," declared Kenneth, "but there's no grub. We can't stay here indefinitely."
"It's all right for the present," said Peter, as he wrung the salt water from the legs of his dilapidated pair of canvas trousers, which, with a threadbare singlet, comprised his entire wardrobe.
For the next half-hour hardly a word was exchanged. The chums were content to sit down and rest, secure in the knowledge that nothing short of a freak of chance would reveal their hiding-place.
Kenneth was the first to stir. Rising, he walked cautiously towards the southern end of the ledge and peered in the direction of the hill on which the four Spaniards were seated. He could just catch sight of their heads and shoulders. They were still there, but had abandoned their indolent attitude and were deeply engrossed in a game of cards.
"They'll keep that up for hours," thought the lad, who by this time was fully aware of the absorbing interest a Spaniard finds in card-playing.
It was now growing insufferably hot. Although the ledge was sheltered from the direct rays of the sun, which were now rapidly increasing in power, the whole of the rock seemed to radiate heat. The chums' saturated clothes were dry again. They had passed through a chilly period, during which the garments were drying, and now they were feeling the extreme heat; and with the heat came a terrible thirst—a thirst rendered still more acute by reason of the salt water they had swallowed in small quantities during their swim from the ship.
To a certain extent they quenched their thirst by chewing lumps of moss, but this had not the same satisfying result as if they had drunk fresh water. A diligent examination of the rocks failed to discover the precious liquid. In fact the moss had dried considerably since the chums had taken up their quarters on the ledge.