“And that is all old Donald heard?”
“Yes, sir.”
“He didn’t learn or gain any intimation of how Tryon intends to operate—what he means to do?”
“No, sir. Uncle Donald says that’s for you to find out. If the cap’n was to be on the ground, t’would be different. Then you’d keep an eye on him; but, seein’ as he is goin’ off again, you’ll have to be more careful and keep a sharp lookout, fore and aft and on both sides.”
“Going away!” exclaimed Percy, with a start of disappointment and disgust. “Do you mean, he will leave Allerdale?”
“Why, bless ye! he’s gone, sir. He went early this afternoon. One of the gunners drove him over to Springvale in a cart belonging to the host of the village inn; and I understand he was bound north for Scotland. Uncle Donald said he was cross and ugly, and it was impossible to make out exactly what he meant to do. But he’s off, sir, and won’t be back for a week or thereabout, if what he told my uncle was the truth.”
“You are anxious to get back to the brig, my dear boy?”
“I’m rather anxious to be out of this, sir,” the lad replied, promptly and frankly. “I wouldn’t have one of the cap’n’s men catch me here with you for the world.”
“Ah, you recognize a line of demarcation in the crew of the brig?—I mean you understand there to be two parties.”
“Yes, sir, I do. Uncle Donald will never—But I mustn’t blab.”