"Is Mother all right, doctor?" Dick asked.
"As I have heard nothing of her, I have no doubt she is. I am quite sure that she will not trouble me with hysterics. Women who have had real trouble to bear, Dick, can be trusted to keep their nerves steady in a gale."
"I suppose you call this a gale, doctor?"
"Certainly. It is a stiff north-easterly gale, and if we were facing it, instead of running before it, you would not want to ask the question.
"That is a suspicious-looking craft, Rawlinson," he broke off, catching sight of the brig, now on their port quarter.
"Yes, she is a privateer I have no doubt, and, unless I am mistaken, she has a consort somewhere out there to starboard. However, we need not trouble about them. Travelling as we are, we are going two knots an hour faster than the brig."
"So much the better," the doctor said, shortly. "We can laugh at one of these fellows, but when it comes to two of them, I own that I don't care for their company. So the longer this gale holds on, the better."
The mate nodded.
"Well, Dick," the doctor went on, "do you feel as if you will be able to eat your breakfast?"
"I shall be ready enough for it, doctor, but I don't see how it will be possible to eat it, with the vessel rolling like this."