"What ship is that? Cease rowing, or we will sink you!"
"Don't answer," Captain Lockett said. "They have nothing but the confused sound of the oars to tell them where we are."
The hail was repeated and, a minute later, there was the flash of a gun in the darkness, and a shot hummed through the air.
"Fire away!" the captain muttered. "You are only wasting ammunition."
For some minutes the Spaniard continued to fire her two bow guns. Then, after a pause, there was a crash; and twelve guns were discharged, together.
"We are getting farther off, every minute," the captain said, "and unless an unlucky shot should strike one of her spars, we are safe."
The broadside was repeated four times, and then all was silent.
"We are a mile away from them now, Bob; and though, I daresay, they can hear the sound of the oars, it must be mere guesswork as to our position."
He went forward to the bows, and hailed the boats.
"Take it easy now, Mr. Lockett. I don't think she will fire any more. When the men have got their wind, row on again. I shall head her out, now. We must give her a good three miles offing, before we stop."