“Rather a long swim,” said Hilary drily; and he thought it rather odd that the other should think of swimming on with the papers that he had locked up in the cabin despatch-box, and that again in a locker for safety.
“Well, yes,” said the other, “it would have been a long swim. But tell me, Mr Leigh, about what time do you think we shall make Dunkerque?”
“If this wind holds good, sir, by eight o’clock to-morrow morning.”
“Not till eight o’clock to-morrow morning!” cried the other furiously. “Good heavens! how we crawl! There, have the reefs shaken out of that mainsail, and send the cutter along.”
Hilary looked aloft, and then at the way in which the cutter lay over, dipping her bowsprit from time to time in the waves.
“I think she has as much canvas upon her as she can bear, sir.”
“Absurd! nonsense! You can get two or three knots more an hour out of a cutter like this.”
“I could get another knot an hour out of her, sir, by running the risk of losing one of her spars; and that means risking the delivery of the despatches.”
“Look here, Mr Leigh,” said the officer; “you seem to be doing all you can to delay the delivery of these despatches. I order you, sir, to shake out the reefs of that mainsail.”
Hilary took up the speaking-trumpet to give the order, but as he held it to his lips he felt that he would be doing wrong. He knew the cutter’s powers intimately. He saw, too, that she was sailing her best, and he asked himself whether he would not be doing wrong by obeying what was, he felt, an insensate command. Surely there must be some limit to his obedience, he thought; and more than ever he felt what a peculiar position was that in which he had been placed, and he wondered whether Captain Charteris could be aware of the peculiar temperament of his companion.