“Who are you?” asked one of the startled men.
“Never mind that,” said Ethan. “Shamus, tie them up.”
The grim dragoon stuck his pistol in his belt: with the keen edge of his cutlass he cut some ropes, and in a few moments both men were securely lashed to the mainmast, back to back.
“A piece of sail cloth would do for a gag,” said Ethan.
“And here is just the thing,” said Longsword as he picked up a topsail, apparently used as a tarpaulin. He cut some broad strips from this; and despite the protests of the seamen, these were bound tightly over their mouths.
“Keep a watch over them,” said Ethan to his companion, after all was finished.
“Where are you going?” asked the other.
“Below. I think I’ll treat the commander of the schooner to a small surprise.”
Longsword made no comment, though his face, had Ethan been able to see it, took on an anxious expression. The youthful American advanced, pistol and hanger in hand, to the companionway. A glimmer attracted his attention, and looking down through a small open skylight he saw two men at the cabin table, engaged in an earnest conversation.
The capture of the watch had been accomplished with almost no noise, so the two below were unconscious of what had taken place.