"Oh!" she whispered, "they are doing something on the ship. Our escape is discovered. They will come after us!"
"Not with the whole ship," he answered, smiling, though listening with straining apprehension as well.
"I think they're a-gittin' under way, sir," said the old seaman. "Listen to the clankin' o' the pawls, yer Honor."
"You are right; it cannot be after us, though; a cutter or two would suffice for that."
"It'll be fur the Richard an' the rest of 'em. Cap'n Jones, he said he'd capture them ships afore the mornin' watch, an' if you wasn't hung afore that time, he'd trice up the whole d--n--w'ich I beg pardon, yer Leddyship, but he said it--crowd to the yard-arms, unless they'd let you go free! Our wessels ought to be a-comin' up from Flamburry putty soon, now. But if I mought make so bold, w'ere are ye headin' fur now, sir?"
"We head for the Richard, of course," said the young man, promptly.
"That's w'ere we b'long," said the sailor, joyfully; "I don't want no fightin' goin' on, an' I ain't there!"
"Nor I," replied O'Neill. "I would put you ashore, Elizabeth, before we go; but--"
"'Whither thou goest, I will go; thy people shall be my people,'" she quoted softly. "Whom have I now but you? To whom can I go but to you?" she murmured, laying her hand upon his own. It was dark on the boat, but if it had been broad daylight he could not have helped it,--he kissed her.
"Oh, to be worthy of it all, to be worthy!" he answered.