“When we get out,” said Aleck, smiling in spite of their trouble, for his companion’s peppery way of expressing himself was amusing.
“Yes, when we get out, of course. You don’t suppose I’m going to settle myself quietly down here, do you?”
“Of course not,” said Aleck; and then an idea occurred to him which made him check his companion just as he was about to burst into a tirade about what he would do.
“I say,” cried Aleck, “it must be easy to get out of this if we wait till the time when the boats can come in.”
“But do they ever come in?”
“Of course. How else could the smugglers have landed all this stuff?”
“It must be at a spring tide then,” said the middy.
“To be sure. When’s the next?”
“I don’t know,” said the middy. “You do, of course?”
“Not I. You’re a pretty sort of a sailor not to know when the next spring tide is.”