There were traces of tears on his cheeks.
Somebody tapped at the door.
"What is it?"
"The devil," answered Captain Runacles' voice, coolly. "Six galleys
to the south, between us and the Thames!"
Captain Barker sprang up and hurried up on deck.
"So those are the craft I've heard so much about," he remarked,
taking down the glass through which he had been eyeing them for a
couple of minutes.
"What do you propose, Jack?"
"Propose? Why, propose to do what I'm here for--to save the convoy."
"That's very pretty. But do you know how fast those sharks can
move?"
"No, I don't. But I know they can outpace us. Nevertheless, I'll
save the convoy."
"How?"
"There's only one way."
"And that is--"
"By losing the frigate."
Captain Runacles looked at him for a second, and then placed a hand
on his shoulder. This simple gesture expressed all his heart.
Captain Barker turned briskly.
"Signal the convoy," he shouted, "to make all sail and run for the
Thames!"
_II--The Galleys._
M. de la Pailletine was in some respects a weak man. He was
impatient. Up to this moment his behaviour in an extremely galling
position had been perfect. He had been content to bide his time and
had furthered every order issued by his rival with the cheerfullest
alacrity.
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