Meanwhile the rejoicings were going on ashore, no one so far having become aware of the approach of the enemy, till she was well clear of the headland, with her smoke floating out like an orange-plume upon a golden sky.
“There’s the signal,” cried Fitz suddenly, as a ball of smoke darted out from the front of the fort, followed by a dull thud.
“Hah!” said Poole. “That’s like the snap of a mongrel pup. By and by perhaps we shall hear the gunboat speak with a big bark like a mastiff. I wonder whether they will make us out.”
“So do I,” said Fitz.
“It will be easy enough to sneak off if they don’t.”
“Don’t say sneak,” said Fitz.
“Why?”
“It sounds so cowardly.”
“Well, this isn’t the Tonans. The Teal was made to sail, not to fight.”
“Yes, of course,” said Fitz; “but I don’t like it all the same.”