“You are going to sail right away then; eh, father?”
“That all depends, my boy—just as the chances come.”
“But as the schooner draws so little water, sir,” said Fitz eagerly, “won’t you sail close in under the shore?”
“No, my lad. That’s just what the enemy will expect, and have every boat out on the qui vive. I don’t mind telling you now what my plans will be.”
He was silent for a few minutes, and they dimly made out that he was holding up his left hand as a warning to them not to speak, while he placed his right behind his ear and seemed to be listening, as if he heard some sound.
“Boat,” he said, at last, in a whisper, “rowing yonder right across our stern. But they didn’t make us out. Oh, I was about to tell you what I meant to do. Run right by the gunboat as closely as I can without touching her, for it strikes me that will be the last thing that they will expect.”
He moved away the next moment, leaving the boys together once again, to talk in whispers about the exciting episode that was to come.
“I say, Fitz,” whispered Poole excitedly, “isn’t this better than being on board your sleepy old Tonans?”
“You leave the sleepy old Tonans alone,” replied the middy. “She’s more lively than you think.”
“Could be, perhaps; but you never had a set-out like this.”