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Well, I'll be safe this time, and say I don't know what she is, and I don't much care. But I am pretty sure that she aren't after us, and I dare say, if the truth's known, she don't think we are after her. There, squint out yonder to windward. That don't look like fine weather, does it?" "No; worse than ever!" cried Rodd.
They seem to be sailing about and watching us as if they'd got some sort of an idea that they were to have us to eat by and by, which I don't mean that they shall. And then there'll be making the false starts. I think, sir, as we'll make one or two, as if we was half afraid to make a dash for it, and that'll draw their fire." "But suppose they hit us, Joe," cried Rodd.
"Then lead me as swiftly as you may to that bridge; I am hurt and weak, but there is succour beyond." As he spoke the drawbridge, which was not ten yards away, fell with a crash. "Run across, Juanna Rodd," cried Leonard in English. She hesitated, then obeyed. It seemed to Leonard that the look upon her face said, "How can I leave you?"
"Oh, never mind the sun being hot, uncle," cried Rodd, as they went on and on. "I don't mind if I'm half roasted. Look, Morny; did you ever see anything so lovely? Look at the flowers on that great tree. Why, it seems to blaze with scarlet." "Yes, and look at the birds," was the reply. "I wish my father were here, with his mind at rest, to enjoy all this as I do, or should if he were with us.
"Something must be the matter," said Rodd, with his lips close to his uncle's ear. "Seems like it, boy. That officer must have brought a dispatch." The object of the bugle was shown directly, for in spite of the rain the interior of the barracks began to assume the aspect of some huge wasps' nest that had suddenly been disturbed.
"Silence there, my lads," said the skipper sternly, and Rodd noticed the gloomy look upon his countenance as he turned his back to the doctor and walked to the side to stand gazing at the distant ship.
Well, one don't like killing fellow-creatures, or seeing them pulled down below by the crocs, but somehow I don't feel so very uncomfortable about them as we had to fight with and have got the worst of it. What are you smiling at, young Squire Rodd?" "I was only thinking how you always hated the slave trade, captain." "Right," said Captain Chubb, with a friendly nod.
"Suppose while you are thinking of eating and drinking the brig goes down?" "Yah! She won't go down. If she's floated for weeks like that she'll keep her nose above water while I swallow two bowls of coffee. I can't work without something to keep me going. Let them pump for another half-hour, and then we'll go." "We!" said Rodd sharply. "That means me too?"
"Hah!" gasped Rodd hoarsely, for he had been taking in spray as well as wind, and he had now nearly recovered the power of breathing easily and well. "Why, Joe, I thought we were sinking." "Nay, my lad; not us!
"Phew! It's just as if the tops of the waves where they curl over were white hot." "Yes, sir, it is a bit warm," said the man; "but I've felt it warmer." "Couldn't," said Rodd abruptly. "Oh yes, sir; much hotter than this." "What! You've felt it hotter than this?" "Oh yes, sir." "Then why didn't you melt away? I should have thought you would run like a candle all into a lump."
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