The old man was seen to shake
his head in answer to the signal, and point to his lug-sail standing
flat as a board, and the next moment they parted company, and the
lateen was running close-reefed before the wind.
Mr. Talboys was sitting collapsed in the lethargy that precedes
seasickness. He started up. "What are you doing?" he shrieked.
"Keep quiet, sir, and don't bother," said David, with calm sternness,
and in his deepest tones.
"Pray don't interfere with Mr. Dodd," said Lucy; "he must know best."
"You don't see what he is doing, then," cried Talboys, wildly; "the
madman is taking us out to sea."
"Are you taking us out to sea, Mr. Dodd?" inquired Lucy, with dismay.
"I am doing according to my judgment of tide and wind, and the
abilities of the craft I am sailing," said David, firmly; "and on
board my own craft I am skipper, and skipper I will be. Go forward,
sir, if you please, and don't speak except to obey orders."
Mr. Talboys, sick, despondent and sulky, went gloomily forward, coiled
himself up under the forecastle deck, and was silent and motionless.
"Don't send me," cried Lucy, "for I will not go. Nothing but your eye
keeps up my courage. I don't mind the water," added she, hastily and a
little timidly, anxious to meet every reason that could be urged for
imprisoning her in the forecastle hold.
"You are all right where you are, miss," said Jack, cheerfully; "we
shan't have no more spray come aboard us; it won't come in by the can
full if it doesn't come by the ton.
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