“Oh, I see,” cried Rodd excitedly. “You think that they would press some of our men and take them aboard. Oh, Captain Chubb, you mustn’t let them do that!”
“I don’t mean to, my lad, if I can help it. I hadn’t reckoned on seeing one of them down here.”
“Uncle thinks they’re after the slavers.”
“Nay, my lad, I don’t think that. More likely after one of the palm-oil craft to see if they can pick up a few men out of them.”
“Oh, that’s a false alarm, captain,” said Uncle Paul. “My papers and the work we’re upon with a grant from Government would clear us.”
“Ought to, sir,” said the skipper gruffly, “but I wouldn’t trust them. If a King’s ship wants men, good smart sailors such as ours, men who have served, her captain wouldn’t be above shutting his eyes and making a mistake. Anyhow I’m going to crack on as hard as I can till she brings us up with a gun, and then I suppose I shall have to heave to or risk the consequences.”
“Hadn’t you better risk the consequences, Captain Chubb?” said Rodd, in a half-whisper.
“Here you, Rodney, mind what you are saying, sir! It’s the duty of every Englishman to respect the law, and I feel perfectly certain, Captain Chubb, that there is nothing to fear in that direction, so go quietly on as you are, unless you are obliged to heave to. Seeing how little wind there is, and how distant that sloop, I think it’s very probable that she’ll not overhaul us before it grows dark.”
“Oh, uncle,” cried Rodd, “she’ll have plenty of time. The sun won’t go down for an hour or so.”
“Well, how long will it be before it’s dark afterwards?” cried Uncle Paul. “You forget that we are in the tropics, and how short a time it is between sunset and darkness.”