"Wouldst come aboard the Revenge even now an I got thee entered on her books, Tim?" questioned Gilbert.
"Ay, gladly," returned Timothy; "for I do assure thee the life we have had since leaving Plymouth hath been none too comfortable; and the food is less to be desired than that which I have ofttimes seen bestowed upon the swine at Modbury Manor. As for the beer they give us, I vow I'd rather regale myself on the water out of the sea. Ay, gladly would I join the Revenge. And yet," he added, with a curiously undecided look in his eyes, "'tis surely passing strange, Master Gilbert, that thou shouldst ask me aboard the same ship with thyself, seeing that when last we parted it was upon no friendly terms."
"I should willingly forget and dismiss from my mind the matter that parted us," said Gilbert. "And I will own now that I made a huge mistake in my judgment of thee, Tim. I fear thou wert right in thy estimate of my uncle. I blush to think it, but I am well-nigh convinced that he was, as you said, engaged in plotting on the side of our country's enemies."
"It may be that you will have proof of it when we return to England," observed Timothy. And then with a "God-speed you", he turned and rejoined his shipmates, wondering the while at Master Oglander's friendly feeling towards him.
When Timothy again went on board the Pilgrim he sought out her captain and told him of the offer that Gilbert had made, beseeching Jacob Whiddon to let him join the Revenge if it should so chance that Sir Richard Grenville would have him. Captain Whiddon murmured some objections, saying that his acquaintance with Timothy during the voyage had taught him the lad's value.
"Nevertheless," said he, "if you are a handy man on board this small craft, I doubt not that you would prove even more so in a wider sphere. 'Tis your own advantage that I consider, Timothy, and looking at the matter thus, it would ill become me to refuse your pleading."
For the rest of that day, and during the day that followed, Timothy cast many a longing glance towards the Revenge. So often did he look at the ship that very soon he came to know every rope of her rigging, every spar of her masts, and every plank of her richly-carved and gilded hull. She was a comely vessel, he thought, with her tall poop and her glittering brass guns, her waving flag of St. George, and her crew of merry, stalwart men. But the days passed and yet no message came to him, and he began to think that Gilbert Oglander had surely forgotten all about him.
During these days the ships remained in the same positions as they had taken up when they had cast anchor. At times the boats would be sent ashore, or to one or other of the victuallers; but there was no sign of growing activity, nothing to indicate that the expected treasure-ships were at hand.
Two weeks went by and still all remained as before. But on a certain Monday morning in early April, when Timothy sat with some of the men enjoying the bright sunshine on deck, he observed a boat putting off from the Revenge. He watched it idly, growing more eager when he saw that it was approaching the Pilgrim, and that Gilbert Oglander sat in her stern seats.
Very soon the boat was alongside, and Gilbert climbed up the ship's side ladder and stepped on deck, and strode aft to the captain's cabin. There he remained for many minutes, delivering some message from Sir Richard Grenville. When at length he came again upon the deck he sought out Timothy Trollope—no difficult task, seeing that Tim was patiently waiting for him at the gangway.