"Thanks to you and Robert, friend Peter, 'twill be rather in the nature of a chastisement than a fight," he answered urbanely. "If you will pardon me, gentlemen, I will go and complete the necessary arrangements."
A tinkle of glass told me that O'Donnell was refilling his goblet.
"What's a fight to the likes of him?" muttered the Irishman dolefully. "Treachery and scheming and murdering, aye, it's a fine night for such! Oh, blessed saints, where'll we be this time the morrow?"
"Safe, beyond question," I sought to encourage him as I drew on my breeches. "'Tis never the Walrus' scaly crew will overcome us."
"Be not too sure, Master Ormerod," he retorted with unusual vehemence. "I am thinking there is the curse of high Heaven on this venture and all connected with it."
Nevertheless he buckled on his sword and accompanied us to the deck when we were dressed. Men were scurrying silently to and fro, and from an open hatch came the whine of tackle as a piece was shifted on the gundeck. Aloft, squads of topmen were unfurling shreds of canvas to give the James steerage way at need. On the poop my great-uncle was issuing his final orders to Martin, Saunders and Coupeau.
"You, Saunders," he said, "will stand by the anchor-cable with a broad-ax and upon my giving the word hew it asunder. Your position, Martin, will be in the waist. Keep men on the fore and main yards, ready to make sail when the cable is cut. Coupeau, of you I expect an initial broadside of crushing effect and a second fire if circumstances permit. Now to your stations, and above all things instruct your men to preserve silence. The man who makes a noise I will blow from a gun forthwith, and let that be my declaration to Flint!"
The officers gave their acknowledgments and flitted away. Simultaneously Peter pointed up the inlet.
"See!" he exclaimed.
The Walrus' riding-light winked out. An interval of minutes, and one of the waist-lights followed it. Another interval, and she disappeared completely in the black maw of the night.