Up-na-tan, on the other hand, was in great good-humor over the very Indian-like manner in which the British were being defeated. The Dover gathering of their war-ships was to him a kind of ambush through which he and his friends were cunningly crawling by hiding their feathers and war-paint.
They were not exactly crawling, either, for Captain Avery was calling upon his schooner for all the speed she had.
"We mustn't lose an inch!" he said. "Their best racers'll be comin' on in our wake in less'n an hour, maybe. I wish this night'd last all day to-morrow."
The next morning had not arrived, indeed, when the Humber herself came within hail of one of her Dover assembly friends. Then, shortly, there arose a more noisy jabber in English than had been heard in Dutch and French on the Noank, for the genuine news had been told in place of Hans Groot's invention. The actual outcome of the fight between the Noank and the Arran did not call for any enthusiastic cheering. Only a little later, the admiral commanding the fleet summed up the whole affair.
"Gentlemen," he said, to a number of glum-looking officers, "we have passed that American pirate right along through this fleet. I think we've a right to go ashore, somewhere, and sit down. It was cleverly done, though, 'pon my soul! Captain Coverley, select our three best chasers to follow her. She mustn't be allowed to get away again!"
Each of the three vessels named was three or four times over a match for the Noank, and her chances did appear to be unpleasantly small.
"There's jest one thing they won't count on our doin'," had been the decision of Captain Avery. "We must put right out into the Atlantic, aimed at nowhere. If it would only blow a gale, now!"
He was not to be gratified in that particular during the pleasant autumn day that followed. Lighter became the wind, brighter the sky, and stiller the sea.
"It's a schooner wind, Lyme," said his old friend Taber, now the second mate of the Noank. "It gives us our best paces. We've run past every keel that was on the same tack, thus far. It isn't really bad luck."
"I hope it isn't," the captain gloomily responded. "But this 'ere sea is a boat sea. They might come for us with a rigiment of their boats, you know. It's a good thing for us that there isn't a man-o'-war in sight, yet. I a'most feel as if there was blood on every mile we're makin'!"