He
found Sir Francis in close conversation with his pilot.
"Marry, Sir, an it fit n'er so ill with thy wish," the keen-eyed old
mariner was saying. "I still maintain it were a shame to lose this wind.
Gift or no gift, I've sailed these latitudes before, my lord, and by
heaven I swear we're not like to have such another breeze, no, not till
the change of the moon, and that you know yourself, sir, is a good
fortnight hence."
Sir Francis, striding back and forth within the narrow confines of the
quarter deck, appeared to be weighing the old man's words with unusual
care. At length, however, he turned as one who has made his decision.
"By the mass and it shall be even as you say, Jarvis," he declared. "I
think myself 'twere well to push on at once. At the most they be but
Indians!" The last words were spoken in a lower tone as if to himself.
"'Twill matter little either way!"
It was at this point that young Harold stepped hastily forward. For,
strangely enough, although on the morning of that same day such a
proceeding would scarcely have appealed to him as being at all unfitting
or out of the ordinary, yet now it seemed unthinkable.
"But, good sir," he interrupted, "you would not so belie your promise!
To do as Jarvis here advises, - by heaven, 'twould be neither truthful
nor honorable! 'Tis not like you, Sir Francis!"
Drake shot at him a surprised glance from under his bushy eyebrows, then
shrugged his shoulders.
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