“Here, I say, you, whoever you are, do you know you have sent a bullet through my fores’l?”
“Yes, sir. Heave to,” said the lieutenant angrily.
“Wal, I have hev to, hevn’t I, sirr? But just you look here; I don’t know what you thought you was shooting at, but I suppose you are a Britisher, and I’m sure your laws don’t give you leave to shoot peaceful traders to fill your bags.”
“That will do,” said the lieutenant sternly. “What boat’s that?”
“I guess it’s mine, for I had it built to my order, and paid for it. Perhaps you wouldn’t mind telling me what your boat is and what you was shooting at?”
“This is the first cutter of Her Majesty’s sloop of war Seafowl,” said the lieutenant sternly, “and—”
But the American cut what was about to be said in two by crying in his sharp nasal twang—
“Then just you look here, stranger; yew’ve got hold of a boat as is just about as wrong as it can be for these waters. I’ve studied it and ciphered it out, and I tell yew that if yew don’t look out yew’ll be took by one of the waves we have off this here coast, and down yew’ll go. I don’t want to offend yew, mister, for I can see that yew’re an officer, but I tell yew that yew ought to be ashamed of yewrself to bring your men along here in such a hen cock-shell as that boat of yourn.”
“Why, it’s as seaworthy as yours, sir,” said the lieutenant good-humouredly.
“Not it, mister; and besides, I never go far from home in mine.”