When Phil turned away, old Jacob cleared his throat.
"Boatswain—"
"Yea?"
"Do not hurry."
As Phil sat at the table in the great cabin, which was so dark that he could scarcely see the plate in front of him (although he ate with no less eagerness because of the darkness), the planks and timbers and transoms and benches were merged into an indiscriminate background of olive-black, and there hung before him by chance a mirror on the forward bulkhead, in which the reflection of the yellow sky threw into sharp outline the gallery door at his back. Having no means at hand for striking a light, he was hungrily eating and paying little heed to his surroundings, when in the mirror before his eyes, against the yellow western sky the silhouette of a head wearing a sweeping hat appeared over the gallery rail.
There was not the faintest noise, and no slightest motion of the ship was perceptible in the brown stillness of the evening. The head, darkly silhouetted, appeared in the mirror as if it were a thing not of this earth, and immediately, for he was one who always kept his wits about him, Phil slipped silently off the bench, and letting himself down flat on the deck, slid back into the darkest corner of all, which lay to the starboard of the gallery door. There, without a sound, he rose to his feet.
The black silhouette reflected in the mirror grew larger until it nearly blocked the reflection of the door, then a board in the gallery gently creaked and Phil knew that the man, whoever he was, was coming into the cabin. Presently in the subdued light he could dimly see the man himself, who stood by the table with his back toward Phil and glanced about the cabin from one side to the other. Knowing only that he was a stranger and therefore had no right to enter the great cabin of the Rose of Devon, Phil had it in mind to jump and seize him from behind, for so far as he could appraise the man's figure, the two were a fair match in weight and height. But when Phil was gathering himself for the leap, he saw in the mirror the reflection of a second head, and then of a third.
Again the gallery creaked, for the newcomers, like the first, were on their way into the cabin. By the door they stood for a moment listening, and in the silence Phil heard a boat gently bumping against the side of the ship. He was first of a mind, naturally, to cry an alarm; but were he to call for help, he would learn no more of their errand. They drew together beside the table and conversed in whispers of which Phil could distinguish nothing, although he was near enough to reach out his hand and seize hold of the curls and brave hat of the nearest of them. To attack them single-handed were an act of plain folly, for they wore swords and doubtless other weapons; but when he perceived that the first had got out flint and steel, he knew that they must soon discover him.
"Whence and for what have you come?" he said in a low voice.
They turned quickly but with admirable composure: there were never seen three calmer men. The first struck light to a slow match and held over it the wick of a candle drawn from his pocket, upon which the flame took hold and blazed up, throwing curious shadows into the corner of the cabin and half revealing the hangings and weapons. The man raised the candle and the three drew close about Phil and looked at him steadily.