“That cannot, perhaps, he helped,” I replied. “But Jerry, I say, do not for a moment ever think of turning pirate, even if it were to save your life. Do right, whatever comes of it, is what Cousin Silas has often said to us—remember.”
“I was not quite serious,” answered Jerry. “But still, it we did, we should have a better chance of getting away.”
“That is the very thing that we should not do,” I replied. “Never do what is wrong that good may come of it. The pirates are not likely to ask us to join them; but if they do, all we have to say is that we would rather not. We need not go into the heroics about it, and show a vast amount of virtuous indignation, but just quietly and civilly refuse, and stick to it. Don’t fancy that we shall get away faster by doing what is wrong. As I said, let us do what is right, and trust all the rest to Providence.”
“I see of course you are right, Harry. I’ll try and heartily agree with you; but just now I was considering how we might deceive the pirates by pretending to join them, and I thought that I had got a first-rate plan in my head. But, Harry, from what you have been saying, I now understand that I was wrong.”
We took two or three turns on deck.
“I say, Harry,” exclaimed Jerry, suddenly, “I wonder what has become of the Dove?” So interested had we been with what concerned ourselves especially, that we had not till that moment thought about her.
“If she did not go to the bottom during the gale yesterday, perhaps the corvette got hold of her,” said I. “If the corvette did catch her, the people in charge of her are very likely to get their heads into a noose, for they will be puzzled to explain in a satisfactory way how she came into their possession.”
Captain Bruno seemed to care very little for the loss of the people in the little schooner. He swore and grumbled somewhat under the idea that she might have fallen into the power of the corvette, and seemed rather to wish that she might have gone to the bottom. However, as she was a capital sea-boat, it was possible she might have weathered the gale, in which case Jerry and I concluded that she would find her way to some rendezvous or other with the pirate. We hoped she might, for vague ideas ran through our minds that she might by some means or other enable us to make our escape from our captors. We could not tell how, but we thought that perhaps we might some night get on board her in some harbour, when the large schooner was refitting, and run off with her. Very slender hopes serve to buoy up people in circumstances like ours.
Three or four days passed away, and the pirates became pretty confident that the man-of-war was not likely again to fall in with them. As Jerry and I passed the compass, we carelessly cast a glance at it, and found that we were still steering a course to the southward. The pirates were now constantly on the alert. It was evident that they were on the watch for some vessel or some island. We considered that they were looking for a vessel, from the various directions in which they were looking out—north, south, east, and west; and sometimes we lay hove-to for hours together.
“I say, Harry, would it not be a joke if they were to fall in with the corvette again?” observed Jerry, when no one was near. “The Americans would not let us escape quite so easily as before.”