Sanders was in reality doing nothing in the way of physical labor, since the steering oar was in the hands of one of the crew, but he was absorbed in “watching things,” as the expression goes.
“I am sure there is no way in which you can relieve me,” said Fred, unbending somewhat from his reserve.
“We are in such deep water, and the wind is so fair, that there can be no danger, I suppose. But tell me, 230 what sort of a boat is that yonder which is pursuing nearly the same course with us?”
“That––I presume,” was the hesitating response, as the young man glanced in that direction, “is one of the double canoes or proas which are often seen among these islands.”
“And who are the crew?”
“Islanders, like my own.”
“Are we going to meet them?”
“I hardly know what to answer to that,” said Fred, looking inquiringly toward the large proa again, as if he had not seen it before.
“Well, Captain Sanders, they must be pirates,” said Inez, stepping close to him, and speaking in a low, tremulous voice; “but whether they are or not, my faith in God and in you cannot be changed. I know you will do all you can for us–––”
“There! there!” protested the young captain, with an expression of pain on his face, “say no more. Please go away, Inez, and leave me alone.”