“It’s plain enough, sir. If I throw the schooner up in the wind we shall have a man-of-war’s boat aboard us and some young officer in command in less than half-an-hour. First thing will be he’ll ask for our papers, and then fall in the lads, run his eye along them, take his pick, and order the poor fellows down into the boat; and that means sending us back to port to fill up the best way we can, and perhaps not do it. On the other hand, I can make believe a bit and still keep forging on a little till the darkness comes, and then—”
The captain stopped.
“Yes,” said the doctor; “and then—”
“Well, sir, it would go very hard if that sloop of war wasn’t out of sight at daybreak to-morrow morning, and even if she wasn’t I don’t think she’d overtake us again.”
“I feel sure you are wrong, Captain Chubb,” said the doctor. “I repeat; my papers and the grant I have had from his Majesty’s Government will, I feel sure, be sufficient to protect my schooner and crew from any action in the way of pressing from one of his Majesty’s ships. You will have the goodness to obey the signal, and wait and see what follows.”
“You mean to risk it, then, sir?”
“I mean to do my duty as a subject of his Majesty the King,” said Uncle Paul gravely.
“Very well, sir. I am captain of this schooner, but I am your servant, and it is my duty to obey your orders,” said the captain, in his gruffest tones; and he walked heavily to the man at the wheel.
The time had been short, but too long for the patience of the man-of-war, for before the skipper had opened his mouth to give his order to the steersman, another puff of white smoke darted from the sloop’s bows, there was a heavy thud, and a cannon ball came skipping over the heaving sea like a flat stone thrown by a clever boy across the waters of a pond—dick, duck and drake fashion—while a thrill ran through all on board as they watched the shot pass right in front of the schooner’s bows and give its final splash as it disappeared far away.
Then the captain spoke, the stem of the schooner gradually bore round, with the sails beginning to shiver as she faced more and more to the wind, and finally flapping to and fro; but almost at once as the spokes turned rapidly through Isaac Gregg’s hands, a deep low murmur ran through the crew, while a pang-like spasm seemed to shoot upward to cause a choky sensation in Rodd Harding’s throat.