“Justin!” exclaimed Britomarte, who now replaced Judith at the glass—“Justin, she must be a pirate! She carries guns! I see them!”
“I know she carries guns; but it does not follow from that circumstance that she is a pirate. She may be an armed merchantman.”
“Sailing under no recognized flag, Justin? Would not an armed merchantman sail under the colors of her country?”
“Most likely.”
“And if this should be a pirate!”
“Yes, if she should! The contingency is not a pleasant one. Judith, we must go down the mountain, my good girl, and hide all the animals in the holes of the rocks; for, if this strange sail should prove to be a pirate coming here in search of wood and water, she would be sure to make very free with all our stores, and especially with the beasts!” said Justin, uneasily.
“Troth would she! And sure if the crew was hungry for fresh beef itself, they’d kill and ate Crummie, the crayture in less time nor I could milk her, so they would!” said the Irish girl.
“Come, let us go!” urged Justin, taking up his telescope.
The three turned their steps down the mountain side, and employed the next hour in driving the animals into the caverns at the base of the mountain; and closing up the openings to these caverns, not with boards—which would have attracted attention—but with green brushwood, arranged in such a way as to seem a part of the natural thicket that clothed the mountain side.
When this was done, they went to Britomarte’s grotto, and concealed as many of the most valuable articles there as they could find a hiding place for.