“Nonsense,” cried Panton; “we shall be all right. How long will you be gone?”
“I can’t say. Two or three days. Perhaps altogether.”
“Eh?” cried Drew, in dismay.
“The Little Planet may prove untrustworthy, and take me to the bottom, gentlemen,” said the mate, calmly. “Who knows?”
“Suppose we don’t make the worst of it,” said Oliver. “We know what a sailor you are.”
“Well, I grant that I am, gentlemen, and ought to be,” replied the mate. “I was brought up to the sea, but I never tried my hand at ship-building before.”
“Never mind, you’ve done wonders,” cried Panton. “When shall you start?”
“To-morrow, about mid-day. That will give me time to make a few preparations. Let’s see, I must have some fighting tools and powder.”
“Of course. How many men will you take with you?”
“Three. That will be enough to manage the sails. I shall take the helm. You, gentlemen, will take command, of course, and see that the watches are kept regularly.”