The question was asked in a quick, decisive way, very different to the despondent air that had pervaded his words before, and the manner was so marked that Jack laid his hands on his companion’s shoulders.
“It’s my fate to be always saying bitter things to you, Bart, and wounding you.”
“Never mind about that,” said Bart, huskily. “Long as I’m the one as you trusts, that’s enough for me. What are you going to do next?”
There was no answer for a few minutes, and then the words whispered were very short and decisive.
“And let ’em think it’s scared us, and we’ve gone right away?” said Bart.
“Yes.”
Bart gave a short, quick nod of the head, walked sharply to the forecastle and yelled to the men to tumble up. The result was that in a very short time sail after sail was spread till a dusky cloud seemed to hover over the deck of the schooner, which heeled over in the light breeze and began skimming as lightly as a yacht eastward, as if to leave the scene of the Commodore’s execution far behind.