"How do you know that?" inquired Branscombe in astonishment. "Here we are cooped up without a chance of seeing a single star, and yet——"
"I've a compass, laddie," replied Burgoyne. "A liquid pocket compass, and I mean to stick to it as long as I jolly well can. Naturally, in playing a billiard handicap, a fellow...."
He continued discoursing upon the irrelevant subject of billiards for more than a minute, his companions expressing no surprise at the sudden change of topic. It was not until the Chinese sentry had passed and was out of earshot, that the former theme was resumed.
"That chap might understand English," observed Burgoyne. "Well, I can also tell you this; if we hold on our course sufficiently long, we'll fetch up on one of the Aleutian Islands, or else on the coast of Kamtchatka."
"Give me something a little warmer," protested Tarrant. "There's nothing like getting used——"
A voice, hoarse, masterful, and at the same time, slightly incoherent, interrupted the conclave. Captain Blair was recovering consciousness and making a considerable song about it.
"Mr. Angus," he shouted, "can't you whack her up a bit more? Three knots if you burst. The cowardly skunks—women on board, and the villains are shelling us. Mr. Angus, are you there?"
In a trice Burgoyne was by the Old Man's side, fearful lest he should divulge the fact to the pirate that there had been more than one woman on board.
"It's all right, sir," he said soothingly. "We've got the heels of them."
"Eh?" exclaimed the skipper. "Who's that?"