“What is your intention, Jack?” said Gascoigne.
“I’ll be hanged if I know yet. I think of working up to the outer roads, and anchoring at night—boarding the American vessels, and gaining intelligence.”
“Not a bad idea; we shall then learn if there is anything to be done, and if not, we may be off at daylight.”
“The pratique boat will not come off after sunset.”
“And if they did, we could pass for an American, bound to Barcelona or anywhere else—the outer roads where the vessels lie are hardly within gun-shot.”
Mesty, who had resumed his sailor’s clothes, now observed, “What we do, Massa Easy, we do quickly—time for all ting, time for show face and fight—time for hide face, crawl, and steal.”
“Very true, Mesty, we’ll crawl this time, and steal if we can. It’s not the warfare I like best of the two.”
“Both good, Massa Easy; suppose you no steal board of polacca ship, you not see Missy Agnes.”
“Very true, Mesty. ’Bout ship, Mr Oxbelly.”
“Mr Oxbelly not good for boat sarvice,” observed Mesty, showing his teeth.