“Humph! anything else?” said the captain drily, but I did not notice it; I was too much taken up by my ideas.
“Yes, sir. Ching could be going about very busily in all directions, showing himself a great deal, and there’s no mistake about him.”
“No,” said the captain, “there is no mistake about him.”
“And it wouldn’t be a bad plan to be at anchor near the place where you thought they were, sir, with some of the spars down as if you were repairing damages. That would make them feel sure that they were safe of a prize, and they’d come off in their boats to attack.”
“And then you would let them board us and find out their mistake?”
“That I wouldn’t, sir!” I cried eagerly; and, oddly enough, my side began to ache where I had had that blow. “I wouldn’t risk any of our poor fellows being hurt. I’d sink them before they got alongside.”
“Humph! Well, you’re pretty bloodthirsty for your time of life, young gentleman,” said the captain quietly.
“No, sir,” I replied in confusion; “but I was with Mr Barkins and Mr Smith, and nearly killed by these people, and yesterday I saw what they had done aboard that barque.”
“There? So you did, my lad. Well,” he said, “what more have you got to suggest?”
“I think that’s all, sir,” I said, beginning to grow confused again, for my enthusiasm was dying out before his cool, matter-of-fact way of taking matters.