"Well, 'ee shell, ther' now. Good-night, Israel; good-night, sonny, and by the blessing of Providence you'll be a rich man yet."
I turned over all this many times in my mind, and, as may be imagined, I was sore driven what to think. Up till now I had not been asked, beyond smuggling, to do anything unlawful, but now I saw that I was intended for wild work. Moreover, I knew not how to get out of it, for Cap'n Jack had, in a way, got me in his power. I had heard of several who had once belonged to his gang, and who had come to an untimely end, and this not by means of the law, but by unknown ways. I also called to mind one of his stories concerning one Moses Rowse, who, because he wanted to "turn religious," was found on the beach one day with his head broken, while another went away from home and never came back again.
All this, I say, wrought upon me strangely—so much so that I did not sleep that night, and I formed many plans as to how I might escape, until my brain was weary.
The next day I noticed that Cap'n Jack was eagerly looking at the sea, as though he saw something of interest, although I, who looked in the direction toward which his eyes were turned, could see nothing.
"I reckon ther'll be some work to-night, Jasper, my sonny," he remarked, after looking steadily a long time. "It do come dark early thaise November days, an' it'll be a baisly muggy night to-night, tha's wot 't'll be. I must go down to the cove and zee the booys."
When he was gone Tamsin came to me.
"What are you so stand-offish for?" she asked.
I did not reply, for my heart was sad.
"And what did you think of the talk between father and the men last night?" she asked.
"What do you know about it?" I asked.