“Brown, show that captain that we float a prettier flag than he does,” said Frank.
Brown hurried to the signal-chest, and presently a little round ball, that one could almost cover with his hands, went travelling up to the Stranger’s peak. Then a little twitch with one of the halliards unfastened the bundle, and the American colors streamed out to the breeze. The young captain was as proud of that flag as the English commander was of his.
Having placed himself directly across the schooner’s path, the steamer stopped her engines, and presently her whistle was blown three times. Frank replied by bringing his vessel up into the wind, this being a signal that the British captain had something to say to him.
“What schooner is that?” shouted a hoarse voice from the steamer’s deck.
“The Stranger, bound to Hobart Town,” replied Frank, through his trumpet.
“I’ll send a boat aboard of you,” shouted the voice.
“Very good, sir,” said Frank.
“I don’t think it is very good,” exclaimed Archie. “I think it is very bad. We’ve got to give up the vessel now, and we’ll be taken into port as if we were prisoners ourselves.”
“We’ll have the satisfaction of going in under our own flag,” said Frank, “you may depend upon that.”
“Won’t you haul it down if they tell you to do so?”