"That wants no answering from quick men," said Zebedee.
"Precisely," said the Prince; "and as you appear to be desperate, and to have no plan, perhaps you will listen to mine. I grant it may fail, but I have seen it succeed before in affairs of this sort."
"Who are you?" asked Simpson.
"I am Prince Rupert Palatine. Perhaps you may have heard of me?"
"Nay, lad, nivver. But let that be. What's thee plan?"
"That instead of waiting here to be assaulted, we should attack these horse ourselves; that we should go across to the rise yonder to seek them, and should charge furiously towards them, shouting over our shoulders as though we had a body of comrades running close upon our heels."
The Yorkshireman Simpson started to his feet, buccaneering-piece in hand.
"By gum," he cried, "young feller, that's telled us t' right thing. Happen we may scrape through yet, and bring in mony a good package o' hides an' taller, an' sup mony another jack o' old Skin-the-Pikes liquor i' Tortuga. Or happen we won't. Onyway, if t' beggars runs they runs, an' if they dunnot they dunnot, an' we gets our fight all t' same. Only thing as bothers me's Tom. I'm thinking we should give Tom a kindly shot before we start."
"Nay, Master Simpson," said Tom; "if needs must I can earn my killing with the best of you. And till that time comes I can be of use. I can shout after you from the timber, and every voice helps."
"Assuredly," said the Prince. "Tom's voice will further the plan."