spot showing on either cheek. "I must tell you, sir, that we are very likely indeed to fall into an enemy's hands."
"Say certain," chimed in Susannah.
"Yes, I will say we are certain. I cannot in conscience do less." He sought his daughter's eyes. She nodded.
"O, damn your conscience!" thought I, my stomach rising in contempt for this noble-looking, but extremely faint-hearted, privateersman. "Come," I said, rallying him, "we fall in with a Frenchman, or—let us suppose—an American; that is our object, eh?"
"Yes, with an American. That is our object, to be sure!"
"Then I warrant we give a good account of ourselves. Tut, tut, man—an ex-packet captain!"
I pulled up in sheer wonder at the lunacy of our dispute and the side he was forcing me to take. Here was I haranguing a grey-headed veteran on his own quarter-deck and exhorting him to valour! In a flash I saw myself befooled, tricked into playing the patronising amateur, complacently posturing for the derision of gods and men. And Captain Colenso, who aimed but to be rid of me, was laughing in his sleeve, no doubt. In a minute even Sheepshanks would catch the jest. Now, I do mortally hate to be laughed at; it may be disciplinary for most men, but it turns me obstinate.
Captain Colenso, at any rate, dissembled his mirth to perfection The look which he shifted from me to Susannah and back was eloquent of senile indecision.
"I cannot explain to you, sir. The consequences—I might mitigate them for you—still you must risk them." He broke off and appealed to me, I would rather you did not insist, I would, indeed! I must beg you, sir, not to press it."
"But I do press it," I answered, stubborn as a mule.
