'I am not afraid, sir.'
'We may spring a leak,' said Barnaby, 'and so go all to the bottom and be devoured. Art not afraid to die?'
'No, sir—not if I may hold my mistress by the hand, so that she may take me whither she goeth herself.'
'Good,' said Barnaby. 'As for me, I expect I shall have to go alone or with John Nuthall here. Well, there will be a goodly company of us. Go to sleep, my girl! In the morning we will serve around the first ration, with perhaps, if all be well, a dram of cordial.'
In the dim light of the stars I watched all night the three figures in the bow. Robin lay white and motionless; Alice sat, covered with her hood, bending over him; and Deb, from whose head her coif had fallen, lay, head on arm, sound asleep. She had no fear, any more than a common soldier has when he goes into action, because he trusts his captain.
Thus began our voyage: in an open boat twenty feet long, with a company of three sound men, two women, and a sick man. For arms, in case we needed them, we had none at all. If any ship crossed our track and should call upon us to surrender we could not deny that we were escaped convicts, because the dress of all but one proclaimed the fact. Who, in such a climate, would choose to wear a coarse shirt and canvas breeches, with a Monmouth cap, except it was a servant or a slave who had no choice, but must take what is given him?
But we should not surrender, come what might. If we could neither fight nor fly, we could sink. Said Barnaby, in the dead of night, whispering in my ear, 'Lad, 'tis agreed between us, we will have that clear; sooner than be taken, we will scuttle the ship, and so sink all together. If 'tis accounted murder, the blame shall lie between us.'
A little before daybreak the breeze freshened, and the waves began to rise; but not so high as to threaten the boat, which proved, indeed, a most gallant little craft, dancing over the waters as if she enjoyed being driven by the breeze. Some boats, as sailors will tell you (being always apt to compare these craft with living creatures), come thus, frolic and sprightly, from their makers' hands; while others, built of the same material and on the same lines, are, on the contrary, and always remain, heavy and lumpish; just as some children are lively and gay, while others, born of the same parents, are dull and morose.
Then the sun rose, seeming to leap out of the water, a most glorious ball of fire, which instantly warmed the cool air and began to burn and scorch our hands and faces. In these hot latitudes one understands what the ancients meant when they spoke of the dreadful Sun-God, who both gives and destroys life, and is so beneficial and yet so terrible. We, who live in a cold country, are sometimes greatly comforted by the sun, but are never burned; we feel his warmth, but understand not his power.