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"If they follow us what is to happen?" demanded Cahusac.
"We'll fight whether we're in case to do so or not," swore Levasseur.
"Counsels of despair." Cahusac was contemptuous. To mark it he
spat upon the deck. "This comes of going to sea with a lovesick
madman. Now, keep your temper, Captain, for the hands will be at
the end of theirs if we have trouble as a result of this Dutchman
business."
For the remainder of that day Levasseur's thoughts were of anything
but love. He remained on deck, his eyes now upon the land, now
upon those two slowly gaining ships. To run for the open could
avail him nothing, and in his leaky condition would provide an
additional danger. He must stand at bay and fight. And then,
towards evening, when within three miles of shore and when he was
about to give the order to strip for battle, he almost fainted from
relief to hear a voice from the crow's-nest above announce that the
larger of the two ships was the Arabella. Her companion was
presumably a prize.
But the pessimism of Cahusac abated nothing.


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