CHAPTER XIX
THE ATTACK ON THE STOCKADE
Daylight revealed the Walrus heading in toward the mouth of the Anchorage; but the smoke from our cooking-fires obviously puzzled her, and she heaved to and lowered a boat which pulled up the channel to investigate. 'Twas impossible from our hill-top to see what the boat's crew did; apparently they turned back so soon as they had convinced themselves the James was not lurking in ambush. And the Walrus took the boat in tow and bore off to the northward under full sail.
"She is bound for the North Inlet," commented Murray, pocketing his glass. "Flint will find the James and be with us again by mid-afternoon."
"When his battery will make short work of this gimcrack fortress," I said disagreeably.
"You are unduly pessimistic, Robert," he reproved me. "'Tis impossible for a vessel of the Walrus' draft to lie so that she can bring a full broadside to bear."
"Why not make terms with them?" I argued. "You have the eight hundred thousand pounds safe."
"I stated my opposing reasons last night to Mistress O'Donnell."
"But you had not then been compelled to flog five knaves to death," I objected. "This is no crew to fight a forlorn hope."
"They and their like have fought for me these thirty years," he replied placidly. "Nor do I consider the approaching struggle a forlorn hope. Let me involve Flint in an attack upon us here, and I promise you he'll not bring off enough men to work his ship. Also, you err in your first assertion, Robert. Only three of last night's mutineers have died. The other two are yet alive—albeit uncomfortable, I fancy; exceeding uncomfortable."
"And how they must love you!" I sneered.