"That would be poor tactics, either way. A fight means loss of life and ship damage, and if it can be avoided without loss we are by so much the gainer. Also, the seas are dangerous for us, as you should know, chevalier—and for another reason, Martin agrees with me the weather is working up for a violent storm."
"St. Patrick aid us!" protested O'Donnell. "I'm not able at all to make out how ye stand, Murray, and that's the naked truth. One moment you're crying for a fight with Flint, and the next you say to avoid it, if that can be managed."
"Quite true, chevalier," assented my great-uncle calmly. "And I fail to see that my position is a false one. I prefer not to force the issue. My policy is summed up in that."
"But you don't know what der Walrus will do, dat's der trouble," said Peter, looking up from the chessmen with which he had been toying on the table-top.
"And that, too, I have admitted, friend Peter," answered Murray.
"One night Bob andt me swam in der water from der Walrus to der James," pursued Peter as if my great uncle had not spoken. "Maybe we could do dot again, ja."
"Ha!" cried O'Donnell, smiting the table with his fist. "The very thing."
But my great-uncle sat unmoved.
"It could be done!" I exclaimed. "And none besides ourselves have knowledge of it."
Murray's wonderful, tawny eyes settled upon my face.