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“Norman and I could have danced for joy at sight of the English uniforms,” Morrison went on; “but when we thought of the others we felt less happy. They were certain of capture now and I had no time to send them warning. The launch was upon us five minutes after she had rounded the point. She came alongside and you can imagine our astonishment when we saw that Thomas Hayward, in a lieutenant’s uniform, was in charge of her.”

“I suppose you fell on each other’s necks, Morrison,” Stewart put in.

“He didn’t condescend to speak to me, but ordered his men to clap me in irons. He remained with the schooner with most of the marines. We were sent back with the launch.”

“Mr. Hayward is in a difficult position; we must remember that,” said Coleman.

“In a position that precisely suits the little cad,” said Stewart, hotly. “He knows that we are as innocent as he himself.”

“Do you remember how he whimpered when Christian ordered him into the launch?” asked Morrison.

“So he did, Coleman,” said Norman. “Him and Mr. Hallet both begged to stay with the ship, and that’s something none of us was guilty of.”