The fellow turned pale at this news, and cast a glance up and down the empty ship. Then, without a word, he took up half a loaf and a mug of beer from the cabin table and walked forward.
“Humphrey,” said Ludar, “get to bed, your turn will come.”
But to bed I could not go; and Ludar for once, I found, was not hard to persuade.
There was in truth much to be done before we could think of rest. Together we overhauled the ship’s rations, and found what would last us for long enough yet. We examined, too, our ordnance, which was but meagre and ill-fashioned; we had three pieces on either side, besides a small swivel gun on poop and forecastle. The ammunition was sufficient for these and for the few pistols and muskets which we found in the Frenchman’s cabin. Further, we looked long and hard at our charts, which seemed well marked for the passage we were bound on. The English fellow, we discovered, had been several times that way; and, though he was no pilot, he said he yet knew the Bass Rock from a mud bank, and, provided we fell in with neither pirates, tempest, nor the Spaniard, could put us into Leith Roads right side uppermost as well as any man. Whereat we felt easier in our minds than we had been.
By the time all these consultations were ended, the watch was half spent. Ludar therefore ordered me below, whether I would or no, to rest. In truth I was ready for it, and fell asleep almost before my head touched my pillow.
When I awoke, Ludar stood beside me.
“Up!” said he, “all goes well, and your watch-partner awaits you.”
“Ludar,” said I, springing up. “Why do you give me the partner who belongs of right to you?”
“’Tis a time for work,” said he, with a smile, “not for play. Am I not captain here? To your watch, Humphrey.”
I went on board. There stood she on the forecastle, looking ahead and singing softly to herself.