Directly after, there was another gun fired from the sloop, and the course of the shot sent skipping over the sea could be traced till it sank to rise no more, after passing right across the schooner’s bows.
The men cheered, for in answer to this threat of what the sloop would do with her next gun, the schooner was seen to glide slowly round into the wind, her great sails began to flap, when in quick time, one of the cutters was manned, with the second lieutenant in command of the well-armed crew.
Roberts had been ordered to take his place in the stern sheets, and as he descended the rope he darted a look of triumph at Murray, whose face was glum with disappointment as he turned away; and as luck had it he encountered Mr Anderson’s eyes.
“Want to go, Mr Murray?” he said, smiling.
“Yes, sir, horribly,” was the reply.
“Off with you, then. Be smart!”
The next minute the lad had slipped down by the stern falls to where the officer in command made room for him; the hooks were cast off, the oars dipped, and the stout ash blades were soon quivering as the men bent to their work with their short, sharp, chopping stroke which sent the boat rapidly over the waves.
“I don’t see the Yankee captain,” said Mr Munday, searching the side of the vessel, which was now flying English colours.
“You think that fellow with the lugger was the captain?” asked Murray.
“Not a doubt of it,” was the reply. “I wonder what he’ll have the impudence to say.”