“I hope so, Strake. But now we are alone, tell me what I am to do to-morrow.”
“Just what you like, sir. If it was me I should mast-head Master Terry, if he come any of his games.”
“Without a mast-head?”
“No, sir; you’ll have to set up one o’ them spars, the one with the little truck for the halliards right a top o’ the highest pynte, to fly the Bri’sh colours, and you can send him there.”
“But about this place, and men?”
“Oh, I dunno, sir. If it was me I should set the lads to level the gun-platforms a bit, and some o’ the others to build up two or three walls with the loose rocks for us to roof in. One for the men, one for the orficers, and one for the stores.”
“Yes, I thought of doing that.”
“Why, of course you did, sir. And then you could give the men some gun-drill, and arter that wait till the enemy comes.”
“Yes, and when the enemy comes?”
“Send him back with a flea in his ear. No room for no Frenchies here.”