"What's the name of the port for which you are making sail?"
"Name of the port?" said Poole.
"Yes; you heard what I said, and I want to know."
"Yes; it's only natural that you would," said Poole. "I say, shall I
get the tackle now?"
"No; I want an answer to my question," replied Fitz, firing up again.
"Well, I can't tell you. That's my father's business. We are sailing
under what you would call sealed orders on board a Queen's ship."
"That's shuffling," cried Fitz angrily, with the black clouds coming
over the little bit of sunshine that lit up his face after his soup.
"Now, sir, I order you to tell me, an officer in the Queen's service,
where this schooner is bound."