But my poor brave Crusoe dragged a broken leg, from a kick bestowed
on him by Captain Magnus, at whom he had flown valiantly in my
defense.
So far so good; we had signally defeated our two guards, and the
camp was ours. But what about the pirates who were still in the
cave and would shortly be returning from it? They were three armed
and sturdy ruffians, not to include Mr. Tubbs, whose habits were
strictly non-combative. It would mean a battle to the death.
Our best hope would be to wait in ambush behind the trees of the
clearing--I mean for Dugald Shaw and Cuthbert Vane to do it--and
shoot down the unsuspecting pirates as they returned. This
desperate plan, which so unpleasantly resembled murder, cast gloom
on every brow.
"It's the women, lad," said the Scotchman in a low voice to
Cuthbert. "It's--it's Virginia." And Cuthbert heavily assented.
Seeing myself as the motif of such slaughter shocked my mind
suddenly back to clearness.
"Oh," I cried, "not that! Why not surprise them in the cave, and
make them stay there? One man could guard the entrance easily--and
afterward we could build it up with logs or something."
Everybody stared.
"A remarkably neat scheme," said Mr. Shaw, "but impossible of
application, I'm afraid, because none of us knows where to find the
cave."
I shook my head.
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