“And state that there is little danger, and that it will recruit Jill’s health.”
“Capital phrase!” cried Peter. “Jack, you’re quite a diplomatist.”
“But,” I added, “is there much danger?”
“Not very much, from the way Castizo speaks. I would bear very lightly on those if I were you.”
“And you know, Jack,” said Jill, “adventures would not be much worth without just a soupçon of danger.”
“True. Well, I must confess I’m willing. What about Ritchie?”
“He and another man are coming with us.”
“And Captain Coates and our dear little mother?”
“Going home. They must, you know. We needn’t. And it isn’t French leave either. You and I and Jill are shipwrecked mariners—that, by the way, is why we are objects of interest and romance to Dulzura. We’re shipwrecked mariners, and it isn’t as if we were apprentices.”
“We are all passed mates.”