“Well?” said Joan.

“Yes, ‘twould ha’ been well if we’d done it.  Instead of which, no sooner was the fires seen to be out—­meaning, as all thought, that the Hart was safe off—­than nothing would do but we must go on to Yellow Rock, which meant waiting for over an hour till the tide served for it.”

“But you never gived in to ’em, Adam?”

“Gived in?” he repeated bitterly.  “After Jerrem had once put the thought into their heads you might so well have tried to turn stone walls as get either one to lay a finger on anything.  They wanted to know what was the good o’ taking the trouble to sink the kegs overboard when by just waitin’ we could store all safe in the caves along there, under cliff.”

“Most half drunk, I s’pose?” said Joan.

“By Jove! then they’d pretty soon something to make ’em sober,” replied Adam grimly; “for in little more than half an hour we spied the two boats comin’ up behind us, and ’fore they was well caught sight of they’d opened out fire.”

“And had ’ee got to return it?” asked Joan.

“Not till they were close up we didn’t, and then I b’lieve the sight of us would have been enough; only, as usual, Mr. Jerrem must be on the contrary, and let fly a shot that knocked down the bow-oar of the foremost boat like a nine-pin.  That got up their blood a bit, and then at it our chaps went, tooth and nail—­such a scrimmage as hasn’t been seen hereabouts since the Happy-go-Lucky was took and Welland shot in her.”

“Lord save us!  However did ’ee manage to get off so well?” said Joan.

“Get off?” he said.  “Why, we could have made a clean sweep of the whole lot, and all the cry against me now is that I kept ’em from doing it.  The fools! not to see that our best chance is to do nothing more than defend ourselves, and not run our necks into a noose by taking life while there’s any help for it!”

“Was the man shot dead that Jerrem fired at?” asked Eve.

“No, I hope not; or, if so, we haven’t heard the last of it, for, depend on it, this new officer, Buller, he’s an ugly customer to deal with, and won’t take things quite so easy as old Ravens used to do.”

“You’ll be faintin’ for somethin’ to eat,” said Joan, moving toward the kitchen.

“No, I ain’t,” said Adam, laying a detaining hand upon her.  “I couldn’t touch a thing:  I want to be a bit quiet, that’s all.  My head seems all of a miz-maze like.”

“Then I’ll just run down and see uncle,” said Joan, “and try and persuade un to come home alongs, shall I?”

Adam gave an expressive movement of his face.  “You can try,” he said, “but you haven’t got much chance o’ bringin’ him, poor old chap!  He thinks, like the rest of ’em, that they’ve done a fine night’s work, and they must keep it up by drinking to blood and glory.  I only hope it may end there, but if it doesn’t, whatever comes, Jerrem’s the one who’s got to answer for it all.”