“Think you could do it, Chips?” cried Fitz.
“I’d try, sir. Only let ’em give me the job. But the skipper wouldn’t let me go.”
“Well, you don’t want to go, Winks,” said Poole.
“That’s a true word, sir. I don’t want to go. The Teal’s good enough for me. But I should like to have the getting of that gunboat off all the same. Let’s see; that there Don Ramon wants it, doesn’t he?”
“Yes,” cried Poole.
“I say, look out!” cried Fitz. “Here’s Chips’s dissolving view dissolving away.”
The declaration was quite true, for the gunboat was slowly disappearing, as the Teal sailed on, to reach Velova Bay without further adventure or mishap.
All seemed well as they sighted the port, and Don Ramon’s flag was fluttering out jauntily; but to the astonishment of all on board, as they drew nearer the fort there was a white puff of smoke, and then another and another.
The British colours were run up, but the firing went on, and the skipper grew uneasy.
“Villarayo must have captured the place,” he said, as he looked through his double glass.