“Dear girl,” said Jack. “Ah, Tom, what a noble courage she possesses! You and I can meet the foe face to face and fight well; but that is under excitement. But dear Flora needed more courage than ours to leave Grantley Hall so bravely as she did. Never a tear, Tom, never a tear; and I even saw my father’s eyes wet. Ah well. It is the fortune of war. Heigh-ho!”
“Cheer up, Jack. Somehow, my friend, I think that Grantley Hall will come back to the Mackenzies yet.”
“Ah, never, Tom, never! The dear old place where Flora and I spent our childhood, only to think it should come at last into the clutches of the plausible skinflint Keane; the father, though, of—but go on, Tom, go on.”
“I next saw two gentlemen of the ‘sailors’ friend’ persuasion.”
“Crimps? Scoundrels!”
“Well, anyhow, they are good for forty between them.”
“Bravo! Things are looking up. What a capital fellow you are, Tom! But, stay; let me reckon. We still want twenty more.”
“And these, Jack, shall be no mere top hampers, I can assure you. I have arranged to lay hands on fifteen at least of thorough dare-any-things—fellows who look upon fighting as mere fun, and can face the billows as well as tackle a foe.”
“You interest me. Proceed.”
“What say you to pirates, then?”