“I want to have a talk with you two,” said Abel, throwing himself on the sand. “Sit down.”
“Did he see?” said Jack to himself, as he took his place a little on one side.
“A talk, and widout a bit o’ tobacky!” said Dinny, with a sigh. “What is it, captain, dear?”
“Bart and I have been thinking over our position here,” said Abel, “and we have determined to go.”
“To go!” said Dinny. “Why, where would ye foind a bether place?”
“That has to be seen,” said Abel; “but we can’t stay here, and we want to know where the nearest port to which we could sail and then get ship for home.”
“Get ship for the prison, ye mane!” cried Dinny, indignantly. “They’d send the lot of us back, and in less than a month you and Bart there would be hoeing among the bushes, young Jack here would be thried and punished for helping ye to escape, and as for me—well,” he added, with a comical grin, “I don’t, know what they’d do with me, but I’m sure they wouldn’t give me my promotion.”
“But we shall starve if we stay here,” said Abel, sternly.
“And is it shtarve wid you two such fishermen? Get out wid ye! Let’s build a hut before the rainy time comes, and settle down. Here’s as foine an estate as a gentleman need wish to have; and some day wan of us ’ll go for a holiday to Oireland or Shcotland, and persuade four illigant ladies to come wid us and be married; and what more could a boy wish for then, eh, Masther Jack? What do you say, Bart?”
“That we must go,” said Bart, gruffly.