"Certainly, Mr. M'Vayne, certainly."
"Well, sir, do you think we shall have a real battle with the savages?"
"Sure to, and perhaps half a dozen. The case seems very grave, you know."
"Well, I'll be glad to see some fighting."
"Bravo! And now you can go and tell the steward I want him."
Off went Creggan, and next minute up popped the steward.
"Sir?" he said.
"Splice the main brace," said the commander.
(This means, reader, an extra glass of rum to all hands.)
By this time the Rattler was ploughing her way through the bright blue sea, and heading for the north.