"Three days and a half as we sail, or as that old cask does. But what for?"
"I heard that things are not so bad there. We might sell the old tub's cargo."
"Sell it? They would take it."
"Perhaps. But we might lie off the port if there is no blockade and—well, negotiate. Once rid of the cargo, she would sail better."
"Yes; but Mr. Wynne has said nothing of this. It is only to risk what we have won. I won't risk it."
"I am sorry," said De Courval, "but now I mean to try it. Kindly run your eye over these instructions. This is a matter of business only."
The captain reddened angrily as he said, "And I am to obey a boy like you?"
"Yes, sir."
The master knew Hugh Wynne well, and after a pause said grimly: "Very good. It is out of the frying-pan into the fire." He hated it, but there was the order, and obedience to those over him and from those under him was part of his sailor creed.
In four days, about dawn, delayed by the slower ship, they were off the port of St. Pierre. The harbor was empty, and there was no blockade as yet.