“It belongs naturally to the schooner,” exclaimed the impatient Barnstable.
“There may be enough for us all to do,” said Griffith, elevating a finger to the other, in a manner and with an impressive look that was instantly comprehended. “I neither agree wholly with the one nor the other of these gentlemen. 'Tis said that, since our appearance on the coast, the dwellings of many of the gentry are guarded by small detachments of soldiers from the neighboring towns.”
“Who says it?” asked the pilot, advancing among them with a suddenness that caused a general silence.
“I say it, sir,” returned the lieutenant, when the momentary surprise had passed away.
“Can you vouch for it?”
“I can.”
“Name a house, or an individual, that is thus protected?”
Griffith gazed at the man who thus forgot himself in the midst of a consultation like the present, and yielding to his native pride, hesitated to reply. But mindful of the declarations of his captain and the recent services of the pilot, he at length said, with a little embarrassment of manner:
“I know it to be the fact, in the dwelling of a Colonel Howard, who resides but a few leagues to the north of us.”
The stranger started at the name, and then raising his eye keenly to the face of the young man, appeared to study his thoughts in his varying countenance. But the action, and the pause that followed, were of short continuance. His lip slightly curled, whether in scorn or with a concealed smile, would have been difficult to say, so closely did it resemble both, and as he dropped quietly back to his place at the gun, he said: