"
"I fear so. Ambition is like to be Smellie's bane. He is jealous of
sharing any credit with the Preventive crews, and is keeping them
without information. On the other hand he delights in ordering about
a military force; which, in a civilian, is preposterous."
"Quite preposterous."
"The Dragoons, of course, hate working under his orders: but I shall
be surprised if he resist the temptation to call them in and dress
himself in a little brief authority. Further, I have word from
Polperro that he is getting together a company of the Sea Fencibles.
In short, he is playing into our hands."
"But the boats?"
"They are here."
"Here?" The Doctor's eyes grew round with wonder.
The Major swept a hand towards the horizon.
"For two days we have been enjoying a steady southerly breeze.
They are yonder, you may be sure--the three of them: and that is
where Smellie makes a mistake in not employing the cutter."
"And the long-boats?"
"The long-boats are lying, as they have lain for three weeks past, in
Runnells' yard, awaiting repairs. Runnells is a dilatory fellow and
has gone no farther than to fill them with water up to the thwarts,
to test their stanchness." Here the Major allowed himself to smile.
"But Runnells, though dilatory, will launch them after dusk, while
the tide suits."
"The tide makes until five o'clock."
"Until five-twenty, to be correct.
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