Presently he heard the anchor strike against the hawse-hole, and the jib rattling up the stay. He could no longer cherish a hope that their purpose was less criminal than he had feared. He almost cried with sorrow and vexation when he considered that his brother John was one of the mutineers.
"They are running away with the yacht," said he to his fellow-prisoner.
"That's none of my business," replied Dick, with his accustomed stoicism. "All I got to say is, that supper will be ready at six o'clock; because why—that's the time Captain Gordon told me to have supper."
"But do you mean to let them run away with the yacht?"
"Don't see that I can help myself;" and the steward suspended his labors for a moment, glancing at Paul as though he had a vague suspicion that he might be in some degree responsible for his inactivity.
"I think we have a duty to perform," continued Paul.
"What can we do?"
"We must get the vessel away from them and take her back to her anchorage."
"But we can't do that. We are prisoners here; can you break through that hatchway?"
"Then you are willing to do something?"