"That's what we want," said Guert.
"I tell you what, though," said Vine, "the queerest feller on board the schooner is that Dutchman, Groot. He asks after you every now and then. Do you know, he actually ventured to go right into Porto Rico twice. I don't s'pose anybody he saw there suspected him of being a pirate."
"Well," said Guert, "he never was one, exactly. Here we are, Vine. I guess I'll have a talk with him."
The boat was at the side of the Noank, and a score of well-known faces were at the rail.
"On board with you!" called out Sam Prentice. "The anchor's comin' in. There's no time to be wasted."
Other orders followed, and Guert sprang away to his duties feeling a good deal more like himself than if he were watching slaves in a tobacco-field.
Very secure indeed had been that bit of a landlocked harbor on the island coast. Its entrance was a mere narrow canal, so to call it, between dangerous reefs on either side. No deep-draft British vessel could pass through that channel; even the Noank was compelled to take it at high water because of its bars.
"Captain Avery," asked Guert, after delivering the messages of good will from his Spanish friends, "didn't you say that the British might have come in and carried the schooner in boats?"
"Ye-es, I did," drawled the captain. "That's the reason why I anchored her jest in that spot. I kept a sharp lookout, you see, on that there p'int o' rocks yonder. Our guns were kept trained on this channel, all the time. We were all prepared then to knock their boats to flinders as they got in to about here. Not one of 'em'd ever pulled past this 'ere twist in the channel, when it opens into the lagoon."
Guert's question was answered, and he had a higher idea than ever of the remarkable fitness of Lyme Avery to conduct the business of the privateer Noank.