“No, sir, you couldn’t,” said the first man. “We couldn’t at first. I laughed at Jem to see him smacking his own face all over, and he laughed at me and said mine looked beastly. And we didn’t either of us look nice when the sun rose this morning, not even when we’d had a good wash. But it’s all over now, as you are coming down, and the first thing Jem and me’s going to do as soon as we gets aboard the schooner is to go and hide our heads in the hold. Say, Jem, old lad, I wonder what Chips will say to you when he sees your mug!”
“Just the same as he will say to you, messmate, about yourn.”
“Hush! Don’t talk. Get back into hiding again, and be ready to pick up the first load as soon as they come down.”
“What of, sir? Prisoners or plunder?”
“Spaniards, my lad. Come, be serious. We are in a queer fix up there, shut in by the enemy. Have you seen anything of them here?”
“Yes; about a couple of dozen ugly-looking beggars, sort of mahogany-brown, come and had a look; but they didn’t see us, and went back. It was just afore that first firing began.”
“That’s right,” cried Poole. “Back with you; but it won’t be long before some one comes, and then you must drop down to the coast, signal the schooner, land your load, and come back; but keep two men to help you.”
“Ay, ay, sir.”
“One word; you haven’t seen any of the Teals, I suppose?”
“Oh yes, sir. Old Butters rowed up with the dinghy this evening.”