On the deck of the schooner, whether she were French or American, only a few men were making their appearance, and she seemed to have a great deal of deck-cargo. It was concerning that, perhaps, that conversation was going on below, and here, at least, the population was even excessive.
"Their glasses'd tell 'em just what we are, Captain Avery," said one before the boat left, "if we swarmed up."
"They'll find out, anyhow," said the captain. "Our deck-load must get ashore at once, before they know too much. It's in the way, too."
From other remarks that were made, it appeared that the cargo to be disposed of had been taken from no less than four unfortunate British merchantmen, and that the schooner had been a long time in gathering it. Good reasons were also given why the ships themselves had not been seized as well as the goods.
The captain was now in the boat, and his face wore a very thoughtful expression.
"Groot," he said, "you talk French better'n I do. Keep close and watch."
"All the lingoes you ever heard of are talked in Brest," said the Dutchman. "I've been here for months at a time. You'll have a visitor from that British corvette, first thing. They won't mind sea law much, either. They never do, and the French never try to follow 'em up sharp."
"Now they've let us run in, I don't care," said the captain. "We've had pretty narrow escapes gettin' here. It was touch and go, along the coast."
Absolute disguise or secrecy was out of the question, perhaps, but when a boat from the Syren shortly afterward pulled to the side of the Noank there was no invitation given to come on board.
"What schooner's this?" roughly demanded the officer of the boat.