Page:The Dark Frigate (Hawes).djvu/146

“True, and with every man lying by the side of his gun, where they shall not see him until we haul up the ports and show the teeth of the good ship.” It was Jacob who spoke thus as he climbed to Harry Malcolm’s side.

The Old One, looking down at the deck below, touched his mate’s arm.

“Yea, I see them. What do you want?”

“Tt seems,” said the Old One, ‘‘that our boatswain hath a liking for the fellow.”

‘‘And that the fellow hath a liking for our boatswain, think you?”

“Well?”

Jacob thrust his long nose between them. "'Well,’ you say, by which you mean ‘not well.’ It proves nothing that a man will not drink damnation to a king.”

The three heads met, high on the poop, and now and again they glanced down at the two lads who stood by the waist and watched the distant sail, which grew black as the sun set behind it.

The sun set and the sea darkened and a light flamed up on board the chase, which appeared to show her good faith by standing toward the Rose of Devon.

There was a rumble of laughter among the men when they perceived she had changed her course. The sober wrung oaths from the drunk by dashing bucketfuls of cold water in their faces. The gunners moved like shadows among the guns. And high on the poop, three shadows again merged into one.

"Master Boatswain,” the Old One called, but softly, “do thou take it upon thyself, although it lies outside thine own province, to make sure that powder and balls and sponges and ladles and rammers are laid ready.”