Francisco rose, and, taking up a flagon from the buffet, which contained some spirits, walked to the door, and, without saying a word, handed it to the Krouman.
'Massa Francisco,' whispered Pompey, 'Pompey say—all Kroumen say—suppose they run away, you go too? Pompey say—all Kroumen say—suppose they try to kill you? Nebber kill you while one Krouman alive.'
The negro then gently pushed Francisco back with his hand, as if not wishing to hear his answer, and hastened forward on the berth deck.
CHAPTER VIII
THE ATTACK
In the meantime, the sea-breeze had risen in the offing, and was sweeping along the surface to where the schooner was at anchor. The captain ordered a man to the cross-trees, directing him to keep a good look-out, while he walked the deck in company with his first mate.
'She may not have sailed until a day or two later,' said the captain, continuing the conversation; 'I have made allowance for that, and depend upon it, as she makes the eastern passage, we must soon fall in with her; if she does not heave in sight this evening by daylight, I shall stretch out in the offing; I know the Portuguese well. The sea-breeze has caught our craft; let them run up the inner jib, and see that she does not foul her anchor.'
It was now late in the afternoon, and dinner had been sent into the cabin; the captain descended, and took his seat at the table with Francisco, who ate in silence. Once or twice the captain, whose wrath had subsided, and whose kindly feelings towards Francisco, checked for a time, had returned with greater force, tried, but in vain, to rally him into conversation, when 'Sail ho!' was shouted from the mast-head.