“Oh, I’m ready enough to help,” said Vince. “So’s he; but they will be very anxious about us at home.”
“Ta ta ta ta ta!” cried the captain. “Vy, you sink so mosh of your selfs. Ze bon papa vill say to la maman, ‘Ah! ma chère, dose boy go and tomble zem selfs off ze cliff;’ and ze maman sall wipe her eye and say, ‘pauvre garçon—poor boy, it is vat I expect.’”
“And instead of that,” said Vince, “you are going to send us home, and then they will not be fidgeting any more.”
“Aha! you sink so. Vell, ve sall see. So I go to be vairy busy, and it is better zat you two do not fight any more. So come vis me.”
“Where?” said Vince suspiciously.
“Vere? Oh! you sall see, mon brave, vairy soon.”
The boys exchanged glances, but feeling that it was hopeless to resist, they followed the captain down to where the boat was lying, just as she had returned a few minutes before, without Daygo.
The men in her were just keeping her afloat, but they ran her stern on to the sand as they saw the captain coming, and one of them leaped out to hold her steady.
“In vis you!” said the captain sharply.
“All right, Mike,” whispered Vince. “Come on, and don’t seem to mind.”