"What do you mean?" I said. "What do you know, anyhow?"
"Only what Gaston informed every one in Stonington," she said. "Poor loon! they would have put him in the mad-house. But you were going on to say, you are—"
"A plain American seaman," I returned, "who would give his life to serve you."
I had risen to my feet and stood there looking at her. I thought for a moment that her look had softened as I spoke, but just then Mr. Middleton's voice interrupted us from the cabin.
"Mary, child," he called, "where are you?"
"I am here," she answered, and she jumped below, almost into the frightened old man's arms. I clinched my teeth, and there was no sleep for me that night.
In the early morning hours it clouded a little, and an intermittent breeze blew up from the south. At daybreak we discovered the sail that had been sighted the evening before, about three miles distant, bearing a few points off our weather bow. She was a small ship, and at the first glance at her Mr. Cutterwaite pronounced her English. We changed our course, and at the same moment the vessel did hers also, and when about a mile distant she broke out her flag.
"A Portuguese, by David!" exclaimed Dugan.
"We'd better try the British Jack, sir," suggested the carpenter.
I acquiesced, and soon the Bat's natural colors were flying over us. Instantly down went the Portuguese emblem, and up went that of England. The ship had come up into the wind, and was waiting for us with her maintop-sail aback and her foresheets fluttering. Suddenly I noticed that she had dropped four ports, and through the glass I noticed one of the guns run in and the toss of a sponge handle. Instantly the risk we were running crossed my mind.