As soon as we were snugly settled in bed, Rupert, as I had expected, laid aside his reserve.
“Now, Cousin Athelstane, what do you suppose it is that has brought me here?”
I could only shake my head in sign of pure ignorance.
“I will tell you. I have come here to offer you a berth on board my ship, the Fair Maid, now lying in Yarmouth river.”
My breath was fairly taken away by this announcement. All the dreams I had cherished for so long seemed suddenly to have put on substance, and what was yesterday a thousand miles away had come at one word within my reach. Yet I could only stammer out—
“The Fair Maid? Is that the ship in which you went to the East Indies? And is she bound thither again?”
Rupert nodded his head.
“She sails as soon as ever she can be fitted out, and we are shipping the bravest fellows in all Norfolk for our crew. A word in your ear, cousin: we sail with letters of marque against the Frenchmen, and it will go hard if you or I come back with less than a thousand pounds to our share.”
“What! Is the Fair Maid a privateer?”
I spoke in some dismay, for in those days privateers bore a bad name. They were commissioned only to prey upon the commerce of such countries as we were at war with, but it was currently believed that they did not always look too closely at the flag of a vessel which fell in their way, and that if peace was proclaimed while they were abroad on a cruise they took care not to hear of it till such time as suited their convenience. Among good men, therefore, they were esteemed little better than pirates, and I could understand why my cousin had been so chary in speaking about his voyage to my father.