“Good-by, Charley dear. All your things are right; and here is the key of the locker. You are fitted out for three days; but you must on no account make that time of it. To-morrow I shall be very busy, but you must be home by the evening. Perhaps there will be a favorite thing of yours for supper. You are going a long way; but don't be long.” “Good-by, Tilly darling--good-by, Jerry dear--good-by, Tommy boy, and all my countless family. I am coming home to-morrow with a mint of money.” CHAPTER XXIX TACTICS OF DEFENSE The sea at this time was not pleasant, and nobody looking at it longed to employ upon it any members of a shorter reach than eyes. It was not rushing upon the land, nor running largely in the offing, nor making white streaks on the shoals; neither in any other places doing things remarkable. No sign whatever of coming storm or gathering fury moved it; only it was sullen, heavy, petulant, and out of sorts. It went about its business in a state of lumps irregular, without long billows or big furrows, as if it took the impulse more of distant waters than of wind; and its color was a dirty green. Ancient fishermen hate this, and ancient mariners do the same; for then the fish lie sulking on their bellies, and then the ship wallows without gift of sail. “Bear off, Tomkins, and lay by till the ebb. I can only say, dash the whole of it!” Commander Nettlebones, of the Swordfish, gave this order in disgust at last; for the tide was against her, with a heavy pitch of sea, and the mainsail scarcely drew the sheet. What little wind there was came off the land, and would have been fair if it had been firm; but often it dropped altogether where the cliffs, or the clouds that lay upon them, held it. The cutter had slipped away from Scarborough, as soon as it was dark last night, under orders for Robin Hood's Bay, where the Albatross and Kestrel were to meet her, bring tidings, and take orders. Partly by coast-riding, and partly by coast signals, it had been arranged that these three revenue cruisers should come together in a lonely place during the haze of November morning, and hold privy council of importance. From Scarborough, with any wind at all, or even with ordinary tide-run, a coal barge might almost make sure of getting to Robin Hood's Bay in six hours, if the sea was fit to swim in. Yet here was a cutter that valued herself upon her sailing powers already eighteen hours out, and headed back perpetually, like a donkey-plough. Commander Nettlebones could not understand it, and the more impatient he became, the less could he enter into it. The sea was nasty, and the wind uncertain, also the tide against him; but how often had such things combined to hinder, and yet he had made much fairer way! Fore and aft he bestrode the planks, and cast keen eyes at everything, above, around, or underneath, but nothing showed him anything. Nettlebones was a Cornishman, and Cornishmen at that time had a reverent faith in witchcraft.