“Looks to me,” observed Poole, “as if they mean to tire us out.”
“Oh yes, sir, that’s it,” said Chips. “I wish I had brought my tools with me.”
“Why?” said Poole, who was glad to break the monotony of their watch by a chat with the men.
“Oh, it’s as well to make the most use of your time, sir. Looks to me as if the Don Captain had taken a lease of that pitch and meant to stay; and under the suckumstances I couldn’t do better than land here and get up to that sort of shelf yonder. Beautiful situation too, freehold if you held tight. Raither lonely perhaps, but with my axe and these ’ere three stoopids to help me, I could knock the skipper up a nice eligible marine villa, as they calls it, where we could all live comfortable for a year or two; and you young gents could have nice little gardens of your own. Then I could make you a little harbour where you could keep your boat and go fishing and shooting and having a high old time. I don’t think you’d get such a chance again.”
“And what about the schooner?” said Fitz, laughing.
“Oh, we should have to dismantle her, and work up the stuff, bulkheads and such-like, to line the new house. I’ve got an idea that I could work in all the hatches and tarpaulins for a roof; for though you get plenty of sunshine out here, my word, when it do rain, it do! What do you say, sir?”
“Nothing,” said Poole. “It won’t do, Chips.”
“Well, no, sir; I thought it wouldn’t when I first began to speak.”
“Try again.”
“Don’t think I have got any more stuff, sir. But lookye here; why don’t the skipper take us all down in the boats when it’s dark, and let us board the enemy and take her? We could, couldn’t we, messmates?”