"This hour, sir."
"Ready to cast?"
"Right, sir."
"Now, Curwen."
Low, from man to man, the order ran through the ship, and the anchor was dropped, almost within a musket shot of the peel. It was high tide, but no hand but Captain Jack's would have dared risk the vessel so close. She swung round, ready to slip at a moment's notice.
He left the helm; and in the wet darkness cannoned against the burly figure of his mate.
"You, Curwen? Remember we have not a moment to lose. Remain here—as soon as the men are back from the last run, sheer off."
He grasped the horny hand.
Curwen made an inarticulate noise in his big throat, but the grip of his fingers upon his master's was of eloquence sufficient.
"Let some one call the lady."