“Pooh!” exclaimed Vince hotly. “I say, you know what the consequences will be.”
“Yes, my lad; they won’t never know what become of you.”
Vince winced, in spite of his determination to be firm, on hearing the cold-blooded way in which the old fisherman talked, but he spoke out boldly.
“Do you mean to say he will dare to keep us here?”
“Yes, my lad, or take you away with him, or get rid of you somehow. You see he’s capen and got his crew, and can do just what he likes.”
“No, he can’t,” said Vince; “the law will not let him.”
“Bless your ’art, Master Vince, he don’t take no notice o’ no law. But I hope he won’t drownd you both, ’cause you see we’ve been friendly like. P’r’aps he’ll on’y ship you off to Bottonny Bay, or one o’ they tother-end-o’-the-world places, where you can’t never come back to tell no tales.”
“I don’t believe it: he dare not. Don’t take any notice, Mike; he’s only saying this to scare us, and we’re not going to be scared.”
“Now, mon ami,” cried the captain, “you vill not get out if you do not depart zis minute. I cannot spare to have you drowned. I sall sail to-night, and you vill be here ready?”
“Ay, ay, I’ll be here,” growled Daygo.