“Yes,” I exclaimed, pointing, “there they come, ten of them, if not more. Have you any particular orders to give, madam, or will you leave the defence of the ship to Mr Kennedy and me?”
“Why, of course I leave it to Kennedy—and you—to do the best you can,” replied Mrs Vansittart. “I know nothing at all about fighting tactics; and I shall not attempt to interfere. Further than that, I shall go below—although I do not like the idea of quitting the deck at the approach of an enemy—for I am sensible enough to recognise that I can do no good up here, and should only be in the way. But, Walter, never, under any circumstances whatever, again dream of turning a key upon me. It was a most unwarrantable liberty, which not even such a crisis as this can justify; and for a few minutes I was really furiously angry with you. But I believe what you did was done with the very best of intentions, so I will say no more about it. Now, here comes Kennedy, so I will just say a word or two to him, and then go. Take care of yourself, my dear boy, and see that you do not get hurt.”
There was no time for me to express my gratitude to the lady for her exceeding kindness in thus overlooking what at best could only be described as a serious error of judgment—although, even so, I could not refrain from reminding myself that the fault originated with Monroe—for at that moment the first mate came bounding up the poop ladder, struggling into his jacket as he came.
“Whoopee!” he shouted, as he reached the level of the poop. “What did I tell ye, bhoy? Where are the shpalpeens? Show ’em to me—Oh! beg your pardon, ma’am; I didn’t expect to find you here—”
“Where did you expect I should be, then, pray, Mr Kennedy?” demanded the skipper. “Hiding in the shaft tunnel, I suppose—”
“By the piper! ye might be in a worse place than that same, ma’am. Up here, for instance,” interrupted Kennedy. But Mrs Vansittart was in no mood to discuss that unfortunate subject any further, just then at all events; she therefore cut in upon the first mate’s remarks by saying:
“Now, that will do, Mr Kennedy. Please listen to me, for time is pressing. I have just been explaining to Mr Leigh that I know nothing about fighting, therefore I shall leave you and him to do the best you can for our defence, and go below out of the way, since I can be of no use up here. Good night, and take care of yourselves! And let me know when it is all over.” With which the lady took herself off, to our intense relief.
“Now, then,” exclaimed Kennedy, turning to me, “where are the cut-throat pirates that I’m afther hearin’ about?”
“There they are, less than half a mile off,” I replied, pointing. “They are coming along very slowly, hoping to catch us unawares, perhaps. But, goodness knows, that young rip, Julius, was making noise enough just now to be heard at double that distance, and to show that some of us at least are broad awake.” Then I briefly explained what orders I had so far given, and waited to hear what he had to say.
“Have the small arms been served out yet?” he demanded.