"I thought it was settled that we couldn't well do anything else," Captain Hanaford said in mild surprise.
"So it was; but the sun was shinin', with every prospect of a fair night."
I looked at the old sailor in bewilderment. It seemed as if he had suddenly taken leave of his senses, for there was nothing to be made of his words.
"What's crawlin' over you, Darius?" Captain Hanaford asked. "Has anythin' happened suddenly?"
"Yes, an' that's a fact! Here we are lyin' up here in a nasty storm as if we was bound to stay, when it's only a case of haulin' the pungy into the channel, an' lettin' her drift past the vessels below the fort. I'll wager an apple against a doughnut that we'll go by slick as fallin' down hill, 'cause it'll be darker 'n Sam Hill to-night; there ain't any moon to break the blackness, an' unless we come plump on to the enemy, they'll never be any the wiser."
I could see that the older members of the party believed as did Darius; but to me it seemed like taking needless chances, when by remaining in hiding a few days we might set sail without hindrance, for if our pungy was seen, there could be little doubt but that she would be sunk off hand.
However, it was not for me to start any argument with my elders who understood such matters far better than did either of us lads, and I held my peace, expecting that an argument would ensue.
To my great surprise no further word was spoken regarding the plan; but Captain Hanaford pulled on his oiled-coat as he said curtly:
"It'll be a good two-hours' job to pull the pungy into the stream, an' won't be handy work after dark."
Darius and Bill made ready to accompany him on deck, and, to my great surprise, I found that these three, at least, believed the plan of trying to drift past the British ships in the darkness one which should be carried into effect.