That they should continue their course due east, as it was now set, was not to be considered, since that way they could encounter no refuge until they came to the Guinea Coast or, at best, the Cape de Verd Islands. Such, it is true, was no great run for the Snow, provided she was well enough provisioned and watered--as might or not be, for all we knew--but still 'twas not very like to be the case. The Virgin Islands in the Antilles, most of them little better than Keys, which are small sandy spots appearing above the surf of the water, with only a few weeds and bushes a-growing on them, and abounding with turtle, appeared to my mind to be far more their mark. Most of them are uninhabited, and one or two there are which are large and even rocky and craggy, but, in general, as I have said. Now, there is no Key, at the present time wherein I set down this recital, which is not the haunt and hiding place of innumerable pirates and thieves, and also used as a burying place for their stolen riches, and here it was most like that Alderly would retreat with what he had gotten. The ships of war of any countries can scarce chase them here, the lagoons, harbours, and inlets all about offering to the smaller craft a natural security, and, if the villains are encountered, their one excuse always is that they are a-turtling: viz., catching of the turtle for sale in the larger islands. So, pondering thus, I did begin to take my decision, and counsel also with those under me. For says I to the bos'un-- "That they should make for Africa is not to be thought on. Why should they do so, when all around are innumerable refuges? Therefore, Cromby"--which was the bos'un's name--"do you know what I will do?" Cromby replied--"No, he could not tell, but of one thing I might be sure: namely, that there wasn't an honest heart in the galliot that wasn't with me body and bones"; whereon I unfolded my idea. "My lads," says I, "we're alone, nine of us, and we've got to do one of two things. Either catch the _Etoyle_ and make her surrender, or meet her and fight her until one of us is sunk. Now, listen. Catch her we never shall; she sails three feet to our two; she's hull down now--where do you think she'll be at daybreak to-morrow?" "On the road to Cape Blanco," replied one, "across the water." "Take a turn north in the night," said Cromby, "slip past Abreojo and Turk's Island, and so for East Florida, or, p'raps, Cuba I doubt their touching an English island."