He asked me why, and I told him.
“Watch attentively for a few minutes.”
I did so, and felt puzzled, for it seemed so strange that the fire should grow smaller.
“Well,” he said, “are the junks burning?”
“The little curls of smoke are rising still, sir.”
“Have the men left the decks?”
“Oh no, sir! They’re running here and there, and seem very busy still.”
“Then they have not set fire to the vessels,” he cried decisively. “Pirates, without a doubt. Those are stink-pots that they have been getting ready. Go on watching, and report anything else.”
A noise below, familiar enough, with its rattle and splash, told me that an anchor had been dropped from the bows; and as the Teaser slowly swung round from the force of the tide, I also had to turn, so as to keep the telescope fixed upon the enemy, who were as busy as ever, though what they were doing I could not make out. The flashes of light came more frequently, though, as the sun played upon their weapons; and now I had something else to report—that they had both assumed a different position, being lifted by the tide and floated upon an even keel.
My first idea was, that now they would sail on beyond our reach; in fact, one moved a good deal, but the other stopped in its place, so that at last they were so close together that they seemed to touch.