Chapter Sixteen.
Captain Rover.
We had to remain at anchor for some time, as, the tide and wind being contrary, we could not proceed down the river. The information we received made it very necessary for us to be on our guard; for although we had driven back the pirates once, they would very probably again attack us with increased numbers. We proposed to the stranger captain the plan which had been suggested, and he agreed at once that it was a good one. Much to the surprise of our prisoners, who had expected to be run up at the yard-arm, or to be sent overboard with shot round their feet, we promised them their liberty—provided they would do as we directed them. They, of course, gladly consented, “We have done well,” observed the stranger captain, when he saw the prisoners rowing away; “not that we can depend much upon those fellows. They may or may not persuade their companions that your vessel is not worth attacking. However, the sooner you sail away from this the better. I am also bound for England, and will bear you company. My vessel lies not far from you; and knowing what was likely to happen, I was on the watch, so that the instant I heard the sounds of strife, I was able to come to your assistance.”
Captain Davis thanked the stranger warmly. “But, friend,” he said, “I have not yet learned your name. I should like to know what to call you when we meet again.”
“Oh! that is of little consequence,” answered the stranger. “To confess the honest truth, I have had more than one name. Call me Rover. I have wandered not a little about the world, and it is a name you will not easily forget.”
“But that is not your real name, surely?” observed A’Dale.
“Young master, when you have lived longer in the world, you will know that you should not ask such a question. A man, in my opinion, may have a dozen names, and slip them off and on in these troublous times as often as he lists. I beg you will remember me as Captain Rover, of the Falcon. We shall see more of each other ere long, probably. I hope that you will not lose sight of the Falcon, nor I of the Diamond, till we are safe in the Thames.”
Saying this, Captain Rover ordered his men into their boats, and pulled away down the stream. His advice was too important to be despised. We continued to keep a bright look-out, knowing that at any moment we might be attacked. We only hoped that his departure might not have been discovered by our enemies. We soon lost sight of him, although we could hear the oars of the boat some time afterwards, as they dipped at intervals into the water, every moment growing fainter and fainter.