“There is a gun, sir, close to us,” said one of the men; “the sound was right ahead.”
“That will do, keep her as she goes. Aft here, my lads; we cannot run our cargo in the bay, for the cutter has been seen to chase us, and they will all be on the look-out at the preventive stations for us on shore. Now, my lads, I have made up my mind that, as these yacht gentlemen have thought proper to interfere, that I will take possession of the yacht for a few days. We shall then outsail everything, go where we like unsuspected, and land our cargo with ease. I shall run alongside of her—she can have but few hands on board; and mind, do not hurt anybody, but be civil and obey my orders. Morrison, you and your four men and the boy will remain on board as before, and take the vessel to Cherbourg, where we will join you.”
In a short time another gun was fired from the yacht.
Those on board, particularly the ladies, were alarmed; the fog was very thick, and they could not distinguish the length of the vessel. They had seen the boat board, but had not seen her turned adrift without oars, as the fog came on just at that time. The yacht was left with only three seamen on board, and should it come on bad weather, they were in an awkward predicament. Mr Hautaine had taken the command, and ordered the guns to be fired that the boat might be enabled to find them. The fourth gun was loading, when they perceived the smuggler’s cutter close to them looming through the fog.
“Here they are,” cried the seamen; “and they have brought the prize along with them! Three cheers for the Arrow!”
“Hilloa! You’ll be on board of us?” cried Hautaine.
“That’s exactly what I intend to be, sir,” replied Pickersgill, jumping on the quarter-deck, followed by his men.
“Who the devil are you?”
“That’s exactly the same question that I asked Lord B— when he boarded us,” replied Pickersgill, taking off his hat to the ladies.
“Well, but what business have you here?”