“But there was evidently something very special about the vessel, or else the French Government wouldn’t have sent orders for her to be seized.”
“French Government did?”
“Yes, I believe so,” replied Uncle Paul. “We saw the officer and his men come riding in with the dispatch.”
“Nay. Order for the Revenue to put men on board.”
“Oh no,” replied Uncle Paul. “From what we saw and what we heard, it was something much more important than that. Why, hang it, captain, they wouldn’t have turned out the garrison and manned all the forts to stop the progress of a smuggler, would they?”
“We wouldn’t at Plymouth, sir; but there’s no knowing what Frenchmen will do. But there, I give in. It must have been something stronger than that, and I am beginning to think that squire here’s right, and that yon vessel, the—the—the—”
“Jeanne d’Arc” cried Rodd.
“Right,” snorted the skipper. “She was something of a privateer, on mischief bent, and I shouldn’t be a bit surprised if we was to hear something more about her. I don’t know, though; if the storm blows itself out before morning we shan’t lie long here in harbour, but make away south as fast as I can make the schooner bowl along.”
“Then you think the weather will hold up soon?” said Rodd.
“Nay, I am not going to think, squire; I’ll wait until I can be sure. Anyhow, I won’t fill my pipe till we get aboard.”