While they spoke, another shot was exchanged between the ships.
Justin hurried up on deck.
Everything there was in admirable order. None of the confusion that too often precedes an engagement appeared.
The deck was cleared for action.
The men were all at their quarters, the officers at their posts.
The captain was standing on the quarter-deck, leveling his glass at the chase, which was, moreover, in full sight about two miles ahead.
The firing ceased for the time being.
“What is the meaning of this lull, captain?” respectfully inquired Justin Rosenthal, coming to the side of Captain Yetsom.
Sailors will swear, more is the pity, and Captain Yetsom, dropping the telescope to his side, blew off a tremendous oath, under the impression that he had a sufficient provocation to do so, and then he added:
“We are on a false scent, sir; we have been chasing an English ship.”