“Well, I said so, didn’t I? I shouldn’t like to have it on my conscience that I’d killed a couple of score fellow-creatures like that.”
“Of course not; but that isn’t what I mean. That gunboat’s too valuable to sink, and, as you heard the Don say, the man who holds command of that vessel has the two cities at his mercy.”
“Yes, I heard,” said Burgess; “and t’other side’s got it.”
“That’s right,” said the skipper; “and if we could make the change—”
“Yes,” said Burgess; “but it seems to me we can’t.”
“It seems to me we can’t. It seems to me we can’t,” said Poole, repeating the mate’s words, as the two lads stood alone watching the cheering people in the boats.
“Well,” cried Fitz pettishly, “what’s the good of keeping on saying that?”
“None at all. But don’t you wish we could?”
“No, I don’t, and I’d thank you not to talk to me like that. It’s like playing at trying to tempt a fellow situated as I am. Bother the gunboat and both the Dons! I wish I were back in the old Tonans again.”
“I don’t believe you,” said Poole, laughing. “You’re having ten times as much fun and excitement out here. I say,” he added, with a sniff, “I can smell something good.”