A feeling of helplessness came over the boys as they saw all this, and realised that now they were, beside the captain and a man who kept going in and out of a low, hutch-like place forward, the only occupants of the vessel; and that if their captor had any particular designs upon them, this would be the likely time for their happening. But they now had proof that this was not going to be the case, for the Frenchman took no further heed to them. He went to the cabin-hatch and descended, leaving them with the deck to themselves.
"What do you think of it now?" asked Mike dolefully.
"I don't know," said Vince, gazing up at the towering rocks, dotted with yellow ragwort and sea-pink, by which they were surrounded; "but it's a change. I wouldn't care if they only knew at home about our being safe.
I say, isn't it likely that some one may come along the cliffs and be searching for us, and then we can signal to him?"
"Who ever came along the cliffs and looked down here?" said Mike.
"We've been about as much as any one, but we never looked down into this pool."
"No," said Vince thoughtfully: "it puzzles me. I hardly make out whereabouts we are. I say, though, look forward: that's the galley, and the chap we saw is the cook."
"Of course," said Mike; "there's the chimney, and the smoke coming out."
"Let's go and see what there is for dinner."
Mike's forehead wrinkled up, and he felt disposed to say something reproachful; but he was silent, and followed his companion to the galley door, where the man they had seen looked up at them grimly, and as if resenting their presence.
"What's for dinner, old chap?" said Vince coolly.
The sour look on the man's face pa.s.sed away. Vince's countenance, and his free-and-easy way, seemed to find favour, and he said gruffly,--
"Lobscouse."
"What, for the skipper?" said Vince, who had a lively memory of the captain's breakfast.
"Men," said the man laconically.
"And for the skipper?"
The man smiled grimly, and took the lid off a pot, which arose an agreeable steam, that was appetising and suggested good soup. Then, without a word, he pointed to a dish upon which lay a pair of thick soles, and to another, on which, ready egged and crumbed, were about a dozen neatly prepared veal cutlets.
"Got any potatoes," said Vince.
The man raised a lid and showed the familiar vegetable, bubbling away on the little stove, which was roaring loudly, and put the saucepan down again.
"Well, we shan't starve," said Vince, as they each gave the cook a nod and walked as far forward as they could. "Captain hasn't a bad notion about eating and drinking."
"And smuggling and kidnapping," said Mike bitterly.
"Kidnapping!" said Vince cheerily. "Ah, to be sure, that's the very word: I thought something had been done to us that there's a proper word for. That's it, Ladle--kidnapped. Yes, we've been kidnapped.--I say!"
"Well?"
"Look here: are we two chaps worth anything?"
"I don't feel to be now," said Mike; "I'm too miserable."
"Well, so am I miserable enough, but I suppose we must be worth something, and that's why the skipper's going to feed us well."
"What nonsense have you got in your head now?"
"Nonsense? I call it some sense. For that's it, Ladle, as sure as you stand there; he has kidnapped us, and he's going to take us right away somewhere. Ladle, old chap, I feel as sure of it as if he'd told us.
It is all nonsense about making an end of us. I was sure it only meant trying to frighten us; but we're two big, strong, healthy lads, and he's going to take us right away."
"Do you mean it? What for?"
Vince looked sadly at his companion in misfortune for a few moments, and then he said huskily,--
"To sell!"
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.
PRISONERS, BUT NOT OF WAR.
Michael Ladelle was a good-looking lad, as people judge good looks; but at that moment, as he stood with his hand resting on the bulwarks of _La Belle-Marie_, he was decidedly plain, so blank and semi-idiotic did he seem, with his eyes dilated, his jaw dropped and his brains evidently gone wool-gathering, as people say, so utterly unable was he to comprehend his companion's announcement.
Still it was only a matter of moments before he shut his mouth, and then nearly closed his eyes, wrinkled up his face, and burst into a fit of laughter, which, however, was of so hysterical a nature that for a time he could not check it. At last, though, he mastered it sufficiently to say,--
"To do what with us?"
"To sell," said Vince again, as he gazed sadly in his companion's face.
"To sell!" cried Mike, growing more calm now; and his voice had a ring of contempt in it as he said,--
"Why, any one would think this was Africa, and we were blacks. What nonsense!"
"It isn't nonsense," said Vince. "That man will do anything sooner than have it known where his hiding-place is; and he won't kill us--he dares not on account of his men; but he'll get us out of the way so that we shan't be able to tell."
"Oh, I won't believe it!" cried Mike angrily. "Such a thing couldn't be done."
"But it has been done over and over again," said Vince: "I've read of it. They used to sell men and boys to sea-captains to take out to the plantations; and once they were there, they had no chance given them of getting back for years and years."
"I don't believe it," said Mike sharply. "It might have been in the past, but it couldn't be done now."
"That's what I've been trying to think," said Vince sadly; "but this wouldn't be done in England. This is a Frenchman, and the French have colonies abroad, the same as we have. How do we know where he'll take us?" Mike started at this, and looked more disturbed. "I say," he said at last, "you don't really think that, do you, Vince?"
"I wish I didn't," replied the boy sadly; "but it's what has seemed to come to me, since we've been on board here. I don't know where this man comes from, but he's a regular smuggler, and there's no knowing where he'll take us."
"But my father--your father--you don't suppose they'll stand still and let us be taken off without trying to stop it. Father's just like a magistrate in the island."
"Of course they wouldn't stand still and allow it to be done; but how will they know?"
Mike was silent, and his face now began to look haggard as he stared at his companion.
"Whoever knew that this Captain Jacques had a place in the island where he stored rich cargoes of foreign things? Why, he may have been doing it for years, and your father, though he is like a magistrate, hasn't known anything about it."