“If she’s a slaver, Tom.”
“Well, sir, what else can she be?”
“Trading vessel.”
“Likely, sir!” cried Tom, with a laugh. “Trading schooner with masts and booms like that! She’s made to sail, sir, and her cargo’s contraband.”
“I can’t help feeling tempted, Tom.”
“That’s right, sir.”
“I’ll go below and see if Mr Russell can understand me this morning. I should like his advice at a time like this.”
“Course you would, sir; and if he could give it, he’d say go in and win.”
Mark went below, to find his officer lying perfectly still, with his eyes closed, and breathing easily, but there was no response to his words, and, hesitating still, and excited, he went back on deck, to find the schooner still gliding on her course, and the stranger well out now from the point.
“What did Mr Russell say, sir?” asked Tom.