"Escaped!" said Poole, with a little laugh, as he clapped his companion on the shoulder. "Well, _we_ have." "Yes, yes, of course," said Fitz; "I meant you. But what will be done now? We are--you are regularly shut in this bay. The gunboat will keep guard, and her boats will begin patrolling up and down so that you can't get away. It only means waiting till morning." "Waiting till morning, eh?" "Of course. And then they'll sink you as sure as you are here." "Yes," said Poole, laughing merrily; "not a doubt about it." "Well," said Fitz, "I don't see anything to laugh at." "Don't you? Then I do. Why, you don't suppose for a moment that we shall be here? The fellows in that fishing-boat brought father some despatch orders for a _rendezvous_ somewhere else, I should say. Just you wait a little, my boy, and you will see what the _Teal_ can do. She can't dive, but she can dodge." "Dodge in a little bay like this--dodge a gunboat?" "Of course. Just wait till it's a little darker. I dare say father has got his plans all ready made, just the same as he had when it seemed all over just now. If he and old Burgess were too much for the Spanish dons in broad daylight, you may depend upon it that they will give them the go-by in the dark. Quiet! Here he is." "Yes, here I am, my boy," said the skipper quietly. "Look here, you two. Hear--see--as much as you can:--and say nothing. Everything on board now must be quiet, and not a light seen." "All right, father," replied Poole, "but I can't see anything of the gunboat's lights." "No, and I don't suppose you will. They will take care not to show any. Well, Mr Burnett, may I trust you not to betray us by shouting a warning when the enemy are near? We are going to play a game of hide-and-seek, you know. We shall do the hiding, and the Spaniards will have to seek. Of course you know," he continued, "it would be very easy for you to shout when we were stealing along through the darkness, and bring the enemy's boats upon us just when they are not wanted." "Well, yes, sir, I was thinking so a little while ago," replied the middy. "Well, that's frank," said the skipper; "and is that what I am to expect from your sense of duty?" Fitz was silent. "Well, sir," he said at last, "I don't quite know. It's rather awkward for me, seeing how I am placed." "Yes--very; but I don't believe you would think so if you knew what sort of a character this usurping mongrel Spaniard is. There is more of the treacherous Indian in his blood than of the noble Don. Perhaps under the circumstances I had better make you a prisoner in your cabin with the dead-light in, so that you can't make a signal to the enemy with lamp or match." "It would be safer, sir," said Fitz. "But most unpleasant," continued the skipper. "But there, my lad, situated as you are, I don't think you need strain a point. Give me your parole that you will content yourself with looking on, and I won't ask you to go below."