"What do you mean?"

"So as it should rise again."

"Nonsense!" said Murray, in a voice which sounded to be full of
annoyance. "That's the morning breeze beginning to blow."

"Well, I don't care, sir," grumbled the big sailor; "it ought to have
been to-morrow morning before now. Sun must be late. I never knowed
such a long night before."

"It's coming, Tom, and before long. Isn't that the warm glow?"

"No," said the sailor shortly. "As you said, there's a breeze coming up
from somewhere or another, and tidy strong, too."

"Yes," said Murray.

"Well, it's blowing up the embers of the fire that was burning its way
through the woods."

"Think so, Tom?" said Murray, his companion's words arousing his
interest.

"Yes, sir; that's it. Can't you see that it looks reddish?"

"So does the sunrise."

"Yes, sir, that's true; but all the same I'm sartain that's the fire
brightening up a bit. We haven't seen no pale dawn yet."

"If it would only come, Tom!"

"Yes, sir; and what then?"

"We shall be able to find our messmates and bring them to our side."

"Maybe we shall bring the black and white niggers instead, sir, and
it'll mean a fight, for we're not going to give up quietly, are we?"

"No, Tom, and I hope that when those two wake up they may be able to
fire a shot or two to help us."

"Hope so, sir. But look yonder: there's the dawn coming."

"Yes!" whispered Murray eagerly. "Look; I can just make out the
branches of a tree against the sky."

"That's right, sir. Now for it; what's it going to be--enemies or
friends?"

"Friends, Tom," whispered Murray confidently.

There was a pause, during which the pair stood gazing straight before
them, striving to pierce the dim dawn which seemed to consist for the
most part of a thick mist which lay low upon the surface of the earth,
while above the top of the forest all was fairly clear.

Then all at once, very softly, but so clear of utterance that the word
seemed to vibrate in the middy's ear, the big sailor uttered a whisper,
as he pressed his firm, strong hand upon the lad's shoulder.

His word was "Enemies!" and in obedience to the warning, Murray sank
down till he lay prone upon the dew-wet earth.

For about fifty yards away there were figures moving, and evidently in
the direction of the spot where the two watchers lay.

CHAPTER THIRTY NINE.

ON THE STRAIN.

Roberts and Titely lay close by, breathing heavily, but to Murray's
horror