Читать книгу The Secret Chart; or, Treasure Hunting in Hayti онлайн

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“What are they?” Nelse asked, surprised at the exhibition of fear.

Andy looked at the questioner as if in pity because of the ignorance displayed, and after a short, impressive pause, replied, solemnly:

“Ef yer doesn’ know, honey, Andy Storts ain’ de one wha’s gwine fur to put yer in any trubble. Dem as goes to dat ar place ain’ nebber gwine ter cum back, an’ yer better foller me ashore, kase I don’ hanker arter bein’ dead.”

As he spoke, the old darky began gathering up such of his belongings as were in the galley, literally trembling with fear meanwhile, and the boys regarded each other in silent amazement until the trampling of feet overhead caused Gil to dart up the narrow companionway.

An instant later he shouted:

“Come here, Nelse! The storm has cleared off, and we are under way.”

An exclamation of dismay burst from Andy’s lips, and, dropping the articles from his arms, he rushed to the deck.

“Andy rushed to the deck.” ssss1.

The Day Dream was already several miles from her anchorage, sending the spray up from her glistening cut-water as she glided swiftly, with every inch of canvas drawing, toward the sea.