“Unquestionably,” answered Lance promptly; “the men are, one and all—excepting, of course, the few who have refused to join the ‘brotherhood,’ as they call it—outlaws; and, as such, they have no claim whatever to be treated in the straightforward fashion with which one deals with a lawful enemy, such as one meets with in ordinary warfare. Your information, Robert, is valuable, not altogether on account of its novelty, but rather as being confirmatory of what has hitherto amounted merely to conjecture on our part. I have long suspected that our friend Johnson is not quite so straightforward as he would have us believe. Well, ‘forewarned is forearmed;’ we are evidently in a very critical position here, a position demanding all the coolness, self-possession, and foresight we have at our command to enable us to successfully extricate ourselves; and I think we should give the matter our immediate consideration—now—to-night, I mean—we shall perhaps never have a better opportunity—and endeavour to decide upon some definite plan of future action.”
“Very well,” said Captain Staunton, “let us continue our walk, and talk matters over. It is perfectly evident, as you say, Mr Evelin, that we are in a very critical and difficult position, and the question is, What steps ought we to take in order to extricate ourselves? I think it is pretty clear that this man Johnson has no intention of releasing us of his own free-will; we can be much too useful to him for him ever to do that; if, therefore, we are ever to get away from this place, it will have to be done in spite of him. And as we are too weak to escape by force, we must do so by craft; I can see no other way for it, can you?”
“Well,” said Lance slowly, blowing a long thin cloud of cigar-smoke meditatively up into the warm still night air, “I fancy we shall have to try a combination of both. I cannot conceive any practicable course which will allow of our escaping without coming to blows with the pirates; I wish I could. Of course I do not care on my own account, although—notwithstanding my former profession—I am not particularly fond of fighting if it can be done without. But there are the ladies and poor little May; it is of them I always think when the idea of strife and bloodshed suggests itself. Then there is their comfort as well as their safety to be thought of; were it not for them I believe there would not be very much difficulty in seizing a stock of provisions and water, together with a boat, and slipping quietly out to sea some dark night, trusting to good fortune—or Providence rather—to be eventually picked up by a passing ship. But I should certainly be slow to recommend so desperate a course under present circumstances, save in the very last extremity. The hardships those poor creatures passed through in their last boat-voyage I have not yet forgotten.”
It is not necessary to repeat every word of the discussion which followed; suffice it to say that it was of so protracted a character that the three individuals engaged in it did not enter their hut until the first faint flush of dawn was brightening the eastern sky. Bob had been dismissed within an hour of the termination of the concert with a message to the effect that Captain Staunton and his two companions felt more disposed for a walk than for sleep, and that the rest of the party had therefore better retire when they felt so inclined, as the hour at which the three gentlemen would return was quite uncertain. The time thus spent had not, however, been thrown away; for, after a very earnest discussion of the situation, the conclusion arrived at was that they could not do better than adhere to their original plan of endeavouring to make off with the new schooner, and that her construction should therefore be pushed forward with all possible expedition; but that, as there was only too much reason to dread a change from the present pacific and friendly disposition manifested toward them by the pirates, an attempt should also be made to win over as many as possible of the prisoners, not only with the object of effecting these poor creatures’ deliverance from a cruel bondage, but also in order that the fighting strength of the Galatea party (as they came to term themselves) might be so far increased as to give them a slightly better chance of success than they now had in the by no means improbable event of a brush with the enemy.
Now that the keel of the new schooner was actually laid, operations were resumed with even more than their former alacrity on board the Albatross, and on the evening of the fourth day after the events related in the last chapter she was reported as once more ready for sea.
During these four days Captain Staunton and the rest of his party—excepting Dale, who positively refused to do any work whatever—had, in accordance with their resolution, been extremely busy at the new shipyard, getting out and fixing in position the stem and stern posts; and it was only by the merest accident that they heard, on the evening in question, that the brig was to sail on the following day.
As Lance had heard no more about the promised arms and ammunition, he at once determined to see Johnson once more respecting them. He accordingly set out in search of the pirate captain, but, to his chagrin, was quite unable to find him or to learn his whereabouts. He searched for him in vain the whole evening, venturing even on board the brig; and it was not until after eleven o’clock that night that he gave up the search in disgust with a strong impression that Johnson had been purposely avoiding him.
On the following morning, however, he was more successful, having risen before daylight in order that he might catch his bird on his first appearance in the open air. At six o’clock the bell rang as usual for the hands to turn to, and a few minutes afterwards the whole place was astir. Lance walked down to the landing-place with Captain Staunton and the others, and saw them embark in the boats detailed to convey the working party to the new shipyard. He then whispered a word or two of explanation to his friends and allowed the boats to go away without him. They had been gone about ten minutes or a quarter of an hour when Lance saw the man he sought emerge from the capstan-house and walk hurriedly down toward the beach, where a boat, fully manned, appeared to be awaiting him. A few steps, and Lance was by his side.
“Good morning, Captain Johnson,” he said with inward amusement as he noted the confusion of the pirate at the unexpected and evidently unwished-for meeting.
“Good mornin’, general,” was Johnson’s response, given with a heartiness which was visibly assumed. “This is a real fine morning, I call it. Nice little breeze, too, off the land; I guess we shall make short miles of it to-day. I am downright glad you missed the boats this morning; overslept yourself, I s’pose; I wanted to say ‘good-bye’ to you and your chums, and I declare to goodness I was only just thinkin’ when you come up to me that I’d be obliged to heave the brig to off the rock and run ashore in a boat just to shake nippers with you. Well, I guess I must be off; there’s the foretop-sail just let fall, and I’m bound they’ve passed the messenger already. I’m real sorry I can’t take you all with me and shove you ashore somewhere on the quiet; but you see how ’tis; that feller Ralli—but I ain’t got time to talk any more, I swow. Good-bye. By the time I get back I reckon you’ll have the schooner pretty nigh ready for launching, eh?”