“We will keep them here then, Ralph. You see, there are one-and-twenty of our knights in the three prizes, and as we lost two in the capture, and four others are not fit to put on armour, we have but six-and-twenty, and the addition will be very welcome. What are they armed with?”
“They have bows and arrows, and long pikes and axes.”
“Good. Have you managed to collect any more arms?”
“Yes. The people are all charcoal burners and woodmen in winter, and I was therefore able to get together some thirty or forty axes and hatchets, which will be ample, with the arms we took from the Moors, to equip the ninety Christians.”
“I think we can depend upon these for fighting, Ralph.”
“I don't think there is any doubt about that. A few of them are pretty well worn out with labour and suffering, but all have gained strength and spirits greatly in the past week, and you may be sure that they will fight to the death rather than run the risk of another turn in the galleys.”
“And have you got the stuff to make the mantles?”
“Yes. There was plenty of the coarse black cloth which they wear in summer—in winter, of course, they are clad in sheepskins; and I have sufficient white cotton cloth to make the crosses.”
“We have only one thing to wish for now, Ralph, and that is, that the corsairs may not take it into their heads to sail tomorrow. Fosco will bring me news at daybreak, and we will at once send another boat off to watch the mouth of the bay when he leaves it. If they sail, we cannot venture to attack them as long as they keep together, the odds are far too heavy, and our only plan will be to follow them at a distance, when we can just keep their upper sails in sight, and then to attack any detachment that may separate from the main body.”
“I hope it will not come to that, Gervaise. It would be hard indeed, when you have devised such a splendid plan, and we have got everything ready to carry it out, if they were to give us the slip. Do the others know anything about it yet?”