“I’m to promise not to escape?”
“Most decidedly; and if you do I dare say I can manage for your life to pass far more agreeably than in your close quarters on board the cutter, with a peremptory, bullying officer.”
“Lieutenant Lipscombe is my officer, and a gentleman, Sir Henry.”
“Lieutenant Lipscombe is your officer, and he is no gentleman, Hilary Leigh,” said Sir Henry warmly. “But we will not discuss that. As I was saying, I daresay I can manage to make your life pass pretty pleasantly here. Adela will be your companion, and you can be boy and girl together again, and spend your time collecting and fishing and boating on the little river. It will be pleasant for both of you. All you will have to do will be to hear, see, and say nothing. Better still—don’t hear, don’t see, and say whatever you like. I will take care that a snug room is provided for you, and you will have your meals with us. Now what do you say?”
“What is to become of my duty to my ship?”
“A prisoner of war has no duties.”
“But I am not a prisoner of war, Sir Henry.”
“Indeed, my boy, that you are, most decidedly. You and yours make war on the gentlemen who fetch brandy and lace from the French coast.”
“And followers of the Pretender,” said Hilary sharply.
“I accept your correction, my boy—and followers of his most gracious majesty King Charles Edward.”