“Thank you, sir,” sobbed little Reefpoint, “if my mother were here, she would thank you too.”
III.
My duty called me on deck, and I heard no more. The night was very dark, and I could see nothing of the stranger, but I steered as near as I could in the direction I believed him to have taken, hoping to catch a glimpse of him at daybreak. After a little while Bangs came on deck.
“Well, captain, now that the little reefer is asleep, what do you think of this business? A pretty large vessel, eh? 100 We nearly had a brush with her. I’m not particularly sorry, though, she has taken herself off, especially as the wind has gone down.”
“Ah, but my dear sir,” replied I, “I don’t think that we have done with her yet. I hope to have a brush with her at daybreak.”
“Now, captain, you’re jesting; you don’t wish that really and truly, do you?”
“Really and truly, my dear fellow, and the only thing which troubles me, is that you and your friends will thereby be exposed to danger.”
“Bah! don’t bother yourself about that, but reflect before you engage with this slaver, how is it possible to gain any advantage over him? Remember that he has twice as many men as we have, and eighteen guns to our three.”
“Time will show,” replied I, smiling; “but I must and will fight, if I can only get alongside of him. And now, my dear friend, as the surgeon has left the cabin, I advise you to go down to your hammock––good night. I fear that I must remain on deck.”
“Good night, captain. Heaven guard you. I will go down and comfort my friends.”