“Um!” commented the captain meditatively. “I suppose it is not, by any chance, the craft which we are after, which has slipped out of the river in the darkness, eh?”
“I should scarcely think so, sir,” answered Perry. “A man would literally have to be able to find his way about blindfolded to attempt to run out of the river on such a night as this. No, I am inclined to think that it is some inward-bound craft, becalmed like ourselves. We caught the sound of some order spoken on board her when we first became aware of her presence, and Mr Fortescue here was of opinion that the words used were Spanish, although the distance was too great to enable us to distinguish just what was said.”
“Ay,” responded the skipper; “two out of every three slavers doing business on this coast are either Spaniards or Portuguese. Now, the question is, What are we to do with regard to our unknown friend out yonder? Either she is, or is not, the craft that we are on the look-out for. If she is, we must take her, by hook or by crook, before the sea-breeze sets in and gives her the chance to run away from us; and that means a jaunt in the boats. On the other hand, if she is not the craft that we are after, she is still in all probability a slaver, and in any case will doubtless pay for an overhaul, which again means a boat trip. Therefore, Mr Perry, be good enough to have the hands called, and the boats got into the water as silently as possible. If the men are quick we may be able to get away, and perhaps alongside her, before the dawn breaks. I will take charge of this little pleasure-party myself, and you can stay here and keep house during my absence.”
“Ay, ay, sir,” answered Perry, in tones which clearly betrayed his disappointment at the arrangement come to by the skipper. “I will put matters in hand.”
“Yes, do,” returned the skipper; “and meanwhile I will go and dress. It shall be your turn next time, Perry,” he chuckled, as he turned away to go below again.
“Ay,” grumbled the lieutenant to himself, but audibly enough for me to hear. “Same old yarn—‘your turn next time, Perry.’ This will make the third time running that I have been left behind to ‘keep house,’ but there’s not going to be a fourth, I’ll see to that; it is time that this child stood up for his rights. Now, Mr Fortescue, have the goodness, if you please, to pass the word for all hands to arm and man boats; and to be quiet about it, too, and show no lights.”
“Ay, ay, sir,” I briskly responded, as I turned to hurry away; “I’ll see that our lambs don’t bleat too loudly. And—I suppose—that I may take it for granted that—”
“That you will make one of the ‘pleasure-party’?” interrupted the lieutenant, with a laugh, as he put his disappointment and ill-humour away from him. “Oh, yes, I suppose so. At all events there will be no harm in making your preparations; the captain is pretty certain to take you.”
Still on my bare feet, I hurried forward and found the boatswain.
“That you, Mr Futtock?” I inquired, as I made out his burly form.