“I want no man’s life,” I exclaimed—“not even Yan Bol’s; but if they creep much closer, and I can manage to plump a ball among those——”
But here my speech was arrested; for, having talked with my eye at the glass, I saw them lower the lugsail on board the longboat; they then pulled her around and hoisted her sail afresh.
“There she goes!” cried I.
“De veras! Oh, glorious! Oh, glorious!” exclaimed the señorita, dropping the wheel to clap her hands.
“Yes, there she goes,” said I, “the second hint sufficed. I wish the shot may not have hurt any man of them. Was she out of reach? Yes, there she goes. Wise ye are, Yan Bol. I should have sunk you. Never should you have gained footing aboard this brig. And has not the breeze slightly freshened too since you started in pursuit? Ay, there is a little foam in our wake, and the glance under the sun is keen. We should have run you out of sight, Yan Bol, and you in pursuing would have run the island out of sight, and then without compass, without provisions, without water, how would ye have managed, you scoundrel Dutchman?”
I put down the glass and clapped the boy on the shoulder.
“Jimmy, you have done well. Yours’ll be a good share of dollars for this job. Now jump, my lively, and get some breakfast for the lady and me—and some breakfast for yourself.”
The poor fellow, grinning with delight, fled forward with the speed of a hare. I took the wheel from the señorita, and she stood beside me.
“What’ll dose men do?”
“They will return to the island.”