"Yes, sir. I want to find out what is going on in Luscombe now. I can’t do it if the smugglers learn that I’ve come back. Of course they’re bound to know that the _Fury_ has been retaken and the _Glorieuse_ brought in a prize; but if my name’s kept out of it they won’t be on their guard; and if you would allow me a few days’ absence, I’d—" "So you shall, by the Lord Harry!" cried the admiral, without waiting to hear what. "And I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll keep the _Glorieuse_ and the _Fury_ in quarantine. Not a man from either of ’em shall come ashore till you’ve reported to me. They’d blab if they did. And there’s blabbing enough. Egad! Several of our merchantmen have been scooped up lately, and I’ll keel-haul the villain who betrays ’em to the French if I catch him. But what about your wound, eh? Won’t that be troublesome?" "’Tis just a flesh wound, sir," replied Jack; "I shall be all right in a couple of days. There’s just one thing; may I have the _Fury_ if I find I can use her?" "Certainly, certainly, when you like; in fact, Blake being absent, you’ll be in command till my lords make another appointment." Jack took his leave, very well pleased with the result of the interview. He returned to the _Glorieuse_, waited until a lieutenant was sent by the admiral to take charge of her, and then, with twenty-five men, including Babbage and Turley, and stores hastily provided from the brig, he sailed out of the harbor in the _Fury_. The admiral, he suspected, would be somewhat amazed when he learned of the sudden departure; but, having permission, Jack had resolved on his way back to set off at once on his quest. The sooner the _Fury_ was out of sight the better; and by sailing in the darkness she would be most likely to escape observation. The wind was not very favorable. A fresh breeze was blowing from the southwest, and it was a somewhat tedious beat down Channel to the point, abreast of Luscombe, where he had seen the signal light from Congleton’s Folly. Had the signalers sufficiently regained confidence, he wondered, to resume their midnight work? "What do you think of it, Babbage?" he asked of the bo’sun, who was at the tiller. "Well, sir, I think of a saying of brother Sol’s: ’When the cat’s away, the mice do play.’ There be several cats in the case, sir. One, the _Fury_—a good name for cat or cutter; two, Mr. Blake; three, you yourself, sir; four, me and Turley, for, having made up our little difference, we two make one; I’ve got the claws, he’ve got the caterwaul. All these cats being away, those there mice will have a rare randy. Why, that there tower was as empty as a blown egg-shell when we drove in the door, and climbed to the top; and the smugglers will be a-hugging theirselves that all’s clear, and thinking they can go on with their work without any danger of a visit from the preventives. Lor’ bless you, I were a mouse myself once."