“We’re all right, sir,” said Cammock to Margaret. “There’s probably a letter. But the Governor’s your friend. You needn’t worry.”
“I wish I could see things as you see them, captain,” said Margaret. “But I can’t. How is it you always have a plan? How do you discipline yourself? How is it you’re always ready?”
“I dunno, sir. I’ve only got a few things to think of, and I think ’em out. P’r’aps that’s it. But just step aft, sir. Look here, sir. We’re ready to sail. The new topmast’s aloft. We’re a little light, perhaps, but nothing to hurt. The thing is—are you going to give him up? You got to decide now.”
“I can’t. We must think of her child.”
“She can’t have a child on the Isthmus.”
“There’ll be time enough to arrange something else when we get there. But she must be spared the shock.”
“Very good, sir. I’ll send the long-boat in for all the fresh meat and fruit there is.”
“Oh, I know, captain. I know it’s not the rightest thing for her. A voyage to sea.”
“She’ll get that anyway, sir. Either way. Very good, sir. I’ll have all ready to sail. I’ve sent for the ‘men of war.’ They’ll join us either here, or between the Points. Well, Mr. Perrin. We’re off to-night, sir.”
“But we’re all dining with the Governor. You’ve surely not forgotten that, Charles.”