in a seaport. No one would
be likely to ask me any questions. Then I could stroll about, and
listen to what was said and, certainly, I could talk quite well
enough to go in and get a meal, and all that sort of thing."

"I couldn't let you do that, Bob," the captain said. "It is a very
plucky idea, but it wouldn't be right to let you carry it out. You
would get hung as a spy, if you were detected."

"I don't think there is the least fear in the world of my being
detected, in a seaport," Bob said, "and I should think it great
fun; but I shouldn't like to try to cross the country. Perhaps we
may have a better chance, later on."

The captain shook his head.

"You might go on board some ship, if one brings up at anchor
anywhere near us, Bob. If you got detected, there, we would take
her and rescue you. But that is a different thing to letting you go
ashore."

Presently the sails of two fishing boats were seen, coming out from
beyond a low point, three miles to the east.

"I suppose there is a fishing village, there," the mate said. "I am
glad they are no nearer."

He examined the boats with a glass.

"They are working out with sweeps. I expect they hope to get a
little wind, when they are in the offing."

Just as they were at breakfast the second mate, who was on deck,
called down the skylight:

"There are three craft to the west, sir. They have just come out
from behind the point there. They are bringing a little breeze with
them."

"What are they like, Mr. Crofts?"

"One is a polacre, another a xebec, and the third looks like a
full-rigged craft; but as she is end on, I can't say for certain."

"All right, Mr. Crofts! I will be up in five minutes. We can do
nothing until we get the wind, anyhow."

Breakfast was speedily finished, and they went on deck. The Spanish
flag was already flying from the peak. The three craft were about
two miles away.

"How are they sailing, Mr. Crofts?"

"I fancy the xebec is the fastest, sir. She was astern just now,
and she is abreast of the polacre now, as near as I can make out.
The ship, or brig--whichever it is--seems to me to be dropping
astern."

"Heave away at the anchor, Joe. Get in all the slack, so as to be
ready to hoist, as soon as the breeze reaches us. I don't want them
to come up to us. The line they are taking, now, will carry them
nearly half a mile outside us, which is fortunate. Run in six of
the guns, and throw a tarpaulin over the eighteen pounder.