“That you will, Alison. You’re a brave lad, I know. We’ll all try and fight like men against the ruffians. Like lions, eh, Dale? Like lions.”
“To be sure, sir,” I said; “but hadn’t we better go back into the saloon?”
“Yes, yes, directly,” he said hastily, and I saw him turn very red in the face. “I suppose the mutineers know that we have a very valuable cargo?”
“Yes, sir; I expect that’s it,” I replied. “But they’re not going to have it. We’ll sink the ship first, and escape in one of the boats.”
“To be sure we will, but it’s a sad business, Dale. There is my consignment of salmon and trout. Do you think the scoundrels would let me go and see to them?”
“No, sir,” I said, “I don’t believe they would. Come along.”
“I’m afraid you are right. Yes; I’ll come directly; but there was something else that I wanted to say to you. Dear me, what a memory I have! Oh, I know!”
He stopped short and turned redder than ever, while I stared and waited.
“Yes; it was about—oh yes—that was it. It’s a terrible business, and—how does Miss Denning seem? Does she bear up about it all?”
“Well, pretty fairly, sir. Of course she is very much alarmed, and she is anxious about her brother.”