I asked him if he meant about the battle? for if the captain once
knew the standard was down, he would certainly put to sea again at
once.

"And even then!" said he; "the arms are now of no sort of utility."

"My dear man," said I, "who thinks of the arms? But, to be sure,
we must remember our friends. They will be close upon our heels,
perhaps the Prince himself, and if the ship be gone, a great number
of valuable lives may be imperilled."

"The captain and the crew have lives also, if you come to that,"
says Ballantrae.

This I declared was but a quibble, and that I would not hear of the
captain being told; and then it was that Ballantrae made me a witty
answer, for the sake of which (and also because I have been blamed
myself in this business of the SAINTE-MARIE-DES-ANGES) I have
related the whole conversation as it passed.

"Frank," says he, "remember our bargain. I must not object to your
holding your tongue, which I hereby even encourage you to do; but,
by the same terms, you are not to resent my telling."

I could not help laughing at this; though I still forewarned him
what would come of it.

"The devil may come of it for what I care," says the reckless
fellow. "I have always done exactly as I felt inclined."