Winks’s Plans.
The mate and the boat’s crew went below, and the skipper took a turn or so up and down the deck, thinking deeply, while the two lads went and settled themselves down aft to keep a keen look-out for any danger that might approach, and naturally dropped into conversation, first about the fight, a subject which they thoroughly exhausted before they began a debate upon their position.
“What’s to be done, eh?” said Poole, in response to a question. “I don’t know. We are regularly boxed up—trapped. You heard what was said, and here we are. We can’t attempt to sail out in the daylight because Don Cousin would sink us as sure as his great gun, and we can’t sneak out in the dark because, even if we got a favourable wind, old Burgess couldn’t find the way.”
“We might take to the boats, and slip off as soon as it was dark, and row along close in shore. We should be out of sight long before daybreak, and join Don Ramon at Velova.”
“Exactly,” said Poole sarcastically; “and leave a note on the binnacle, ‘With father’s compliments to Don Cousin, and he begged to make him a present of the smartest little schooner, just as she stands, that ever crossed the Atlantic.’ Likely, isn’t it?”
“Oh no,” said Fitz hurriedly. “Of course that wouldn’t do.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Poole, in the same mocking vein. “It doesn’t do to be in too much of a hurry over a good idea. There, you wait till the dad turns and is coming back this way, and then you go and propose it to him.”
“Likely, as you say,” said Fitz, with a laugh. “But look here, what is to be done?”
“I only know of one thing,” replied Poole; “keep a strict watch for the next prank they will play, and beat them off again till they get tired and give it up as a bad job.”
“That they will never do,” said Fitz decidedly. “Think they could land and get up on one of these cliffs from the shore side, and pick us off by degrees with their rifles?”