"Well, that depends on what the lads call the spaniel dogs. The dad doesn't want it to be too serious, of course, but we can't help it if these fellows make our lads savage. You see, we've got cutlasses and rifles, and fellows forget to be gentle if they are hurt." "But we are not at war with Don Villarayo's State." "No," said Poole, "and Villarayo is not at war with our schooner and the men, but if he begins giving us Olivers he must expect to get Rolands back. Those who play at bowls, you know, must expect rubbers, and when Englishmen rub, they rub hard." Fitz half turned away to look astern. "I say," he said, "aren't they a long time coming?" "No; they had a long way to row." "Seems a long time. Perhaps they have thought better of it and gone back." "Think so? Well, I don't. They are sure to come. But I dare say it will be a good quarter of an hour yet--perhaps half." "Well," said Fitz, "for my part, I--" He stopped short, and Poole looked at him curiously. "Well?" he said. "You what? What were you going to say?" "Nothing. You'd only think that I was afraid." "Oh, I know," said Poole. "You were going to say that you hope it won't turn out serious. I shouldn't think that you were afraid. I feel just the same. But you may make up your mind for one thing. We are in the strongest position, and Villarayo's sailors won't be allowed to take the _Teal_. If it comes to bloodshed, it's their doing, mind, and not ours. Now, don't let's talk any more." "Why not?" said Fitz. "I feel as if I must. Perhaps I shouldn't if I were one of your crew, and like that." He pointed quickly to his companion's belt, from which hung a sword, and then quickly touched the flap of the little holster buttoned over the brass stud. "You won't use that, will you?" he said. "Not if I can help it," was the reply. "Help it! Why, of course you needn't unless you like." "Well, I shouldn't like to, of course. But if you were I, and you saw one of these fellows aiming at one of your men, say at old Butters or Chips, setting aside the dad, wouldn't you try and whip it out to have first shot?" Fitz nodded shortly, and for the time being the conversation ceased, while the lads' attention was taken up by the sight of the Camel, who after making a rattling noise as if stoking his fire in the galley, shut the door with a bang, and came out red-faced and hot, wiping his hands prior to buckling on a belt with its cutlass and then helping himself to a capstan-bar. It was only a few minutes later that the bows of a large cutter came in sight, followed by the regularly dipping oars of the crew of swarthy sailors who were pulling hard. The next moment the uniforms of two officers could be made out in the stern-sheets, where they sat surrounded by what answered to marines, and before the cutter had come many yards the bows of its consort appeared.