Chapter Thirty One.
The Fire Grows Hotter.
“I do,” said Briscoe, staring. “I can see two canoes coming round the bend yonder, half a mile away.”
“Two!” cried Brace excitedly; “why, there are three.”
“Yes,” said the captain coolly; “we’re took front, back, and flank. Better put off the rope’s-ending now, Mr Briscoe, eh?”
“Well, it would be better,” said the American coolly, as he carefully loaded his piece. “These things are as well done privately and without a lot of lookers on. It might give these dark gentlemen a bad opinion of the whites.”
“What are you going to do, captain?” said Sir Humphrey impatiently.
“There’s only one course open to us, sir—and that is to fight.”