"Hoo-jolly-ray!" screeched Jim, springing wildly on to a thwart. "Three cheers and a tiger! Hip! hip! hip! hurray!"
Meanwhile, Broncho was pump-handling Jack like a madman.
"You old son of a gun!" he growled; "you old son of a gun!"
Bill was just as excited.
"Blawst me if it ain't a blighted miracle; yes, that's just wot it is. But wot's done it? The blistered moon, the dago's flyin' lead, or the war-schooner juttin' over the horizon? Anyways, whatever done it, the dough's your way, Jack."
And now the Tahiti gunboat came swooping down upon them, a row of eager faces lining her rail.
When within a quarter of a cable she rounded to and backed her fore-topsail, whilst Tari ran the whaleboat up alongside her lowered gangway ladder, on which stood a little fat Frenchman in a spotless uniform of snowy duck.
"Qu'est que c'est ce bateau là?" he cried, flourishing a podgy fist in the direction of the flying pirate.
"Black Adder," replied Jack shortly, and the notorious name drew a buzz of comment from the schooner's crew.
The next moment Loyola was handed up the ladder, and received, with the politest of bows and a shower of flowery expressions of delight and greeting, by the little French captain, who knew her well.