e young officer of the _White Hawk_
was growing more and more contagious, and the men gave a cheer as they
span the boat along, every smart sailor on board thinking about the
frank, straightforward lad who had so bravely gone on the risky
expedition.

"Look ye here, Jemmy," said one of the men to his nearest mate, "talk
about 'tacking the enemy, if wrong's happened to our young gentleman,
all I can say is, as I hopes it's orders to land every night to burn
willages and sack everything we can."

"And so says all of us," came in a chorus from the rest of the crew.

"Steady! My lads, steady!" cried the master--"keep stroke;" and then he
began to make plans as to his first proceedings on getting ashore.

He wasn't long in making these plans, and when the cove was reached, the
two fishing luggers and another boat or two lying there were carefully
overhauled, Gurr gazing at the men on board like a fierce dog, and
literally worrying the different fishermen as cleverly as a
cross-examining counsel would a witness ashore.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

Always the same answer.

No, they hadn't seen no sailor lad in a red cap, only their own boys,
and they were all at home. Had he lost one?

Yes; a boy had come ashore and not returned.

The different men questioned chuckled, and one oracular-looking old
fellow spat, wiped his lips on the back of his hand, stared out to sea,
and said gruffly,--

"Runned away."

"Ay," said another, "that's it. You won't see him again."

"Won't I?" muttered Gurr between his teeth. "I'll let some of you see
about that, my fine fellows."

He led his men on, stopping at each cluster of cottages and shabby
little farm to ask suspiciously, as if he felt certain the person he
questioned was hiding the truth.

But he always came out again to his men with an anxious look in his
eyes, and generally ranged up alongside of Dick.

"No, my lad," he would say, "they haven't seen 'im there;" and then with
his head bent down, but his eyes eagerly searching the road from side to
side, he went on towards Shackle's farm.

"Say, Mester Gurr," said Dick, after one of these searches, "he wouldn't
run away?"

"What! Mr Raystoke, sir? Don't be a fool."

"No, sir," replied Dick humbly, and the men tramped on with a couple of
open-mouthed, barefooted boys following them to stare at their cutlasses
and pistols.

"Say, Mester Gurr," ventured Dick, after a pause, "none of 'em wouldn't
ha' done that, would