“Yes, sare. Not very big, but an enemy; but if she fight they will shoot from all the forts and sink her.”
“But how do you know all this?” said Rodd.
“Many soldiers, horsemen, came galloping up to bring dispatches to the Governor. There, sare; you will look from the window,” continued the man, using a clean serviette that he took from under his arm to rub the steamy window-panes, for the cold blast of the storm had caused the warm air inside to blur the glass with a thick deposit of vapour. “There, sare,” continued the man; “zat is ze sheep.”
“Oh, it’s too thick to see for the rain.”
“Yes, sare; but you see out zare in ze arbour ze two lights.”
“Nonsense man!” cried Uncle Paul, half angrily. “That is the English schooner—ours.”
“Oh, non, non, non, monsieur! Away to ze gauche—ze left hand. Ze sheep with two high, tall mast, that we all see here when she come in ze storm yesterday. We all here with ze officer of ze regiment see you come in through ze storm, and ze enemy sheep, a stranger, come after, and ze officer say she will run you down and sink you in ze harbour!”
“Oh, that one!” cried Rodd excitedly.
“Ah, I see, monsieur knows. You see her lights swing in the wind—two;” and the man held up a couple of fingers.
“Yes, I see where you mean,” cried Rodd; “but she has only one light.”