Within the hour the Arabella and La Foudre were beating out to sea
together. Without understanding the change of plan involved,
Captain Blood, nevertheless, accepted it, and weighed anchor before
the appointed time upon perceiving his associate to do so.
All day the Dutch brig was in sight, though by evening she had
dwindled to the merest speck on the northern horizon. The course
prescribed for Blood and Levasseur lay eastward along the northern
shores of Hispaniola. To that course the Arabella continued to
hold steadily throughout the night. When day broke again, she was
alone. La Foudre under cover of the darkness had struck away to
The northeast with every rag of canvas on her yards.
Cahusac had attempted yet again to protest against this.
"The devil take you!" Levasseur had answered him. "A ship's a
ship, be she Dutch or Spanish, and ships are our present need.
That will suffice for the men."
His lieutenant said no more. But from his glimpse of the letter,
knowing that a girl and not a ship was his captain's real objective,
he gloomily shook his head as he rolled away on his bowed legs to
give the necessary orders.
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