“My true old friend,” whispered the other, quickly; “but it’s time they were back.”
“Nay, not yet,” said Bart, as the other stood gazing over the side of the schooner toward where a long, low bank of mist seemed to shut out everything beyond.
“They’ve been gone two hours, and it’s now four bells.”
“Ay, and it’ll be six bells before they get back, and it’s a long way to row. Do you mean to try it, then?”
“Try it? Yes, if I die in the attempt. Did I hesitate when you two were on the plantation, and I was alone and—a boy?”
“Not you,” said Bart.
“Then, do you think I shall hesitate now that I have a ship and followers to back me up?”
Bart shook his head.
“Abel must be saved; and the men agree.”
“Ay; they say they’ll have the skipper out of the prison or they’ll die first.”