Silence; but as Uncle Paul pressed his nephew’s arm Rodd followed him slowly without a word, while the waiter shook his head and suggested that they should return to the café.
The boy gave one glance before stirring, and then uttered a sigh.
“Come, my boy,” said his uncle; “perhaps there is no occasion to despair. It is quite evident that the captain of the brig knows what he is about, and may escape.”
Rodd followed his uncle without a word, the waiter going on before them to show the devious ways along by the harbour and the old town.
As they drew near the yard Rodd felt a sense of hesitation. “I think I would rather get back on board the schooner, uncle,” he said.
“Oh, but we couldn’t do that, my boy,” cried Uncle Paul. “I gave an order for dinner to be prepared.”
“Yes, uncle, but I don’t feel as if I could eat anything now.”
“Why?”
“It seemed so horrible watching that vessel trying to escape under fire.”
“It was evidently not hit, my boy.”