“Yaw! Vat you want?” answered Pierre, imitating as nearly as he could the broken English of a German.
“Lie to!” commanded the officer.
“Vas?” yelled Pierre.
“Lie to, I say. I want to come aboard of you.”
“Nix forstay!”
“That won’t go down, my friend; I know you,” said the officer, angrily. “Give away, strong,” he added, addressing himself to his crew. “You had better stop and let me come aboard.”
Pierre seemed very anxious to understand. He moved aft as the Banner went on, leaving the boat behind, and even leaned as far as he could over the taffrail, and placed his hand behind his ear as if trying to catch the officer’s words. But he did not stop; he knew better. The boat followed the yacht a short distance, and then turned and went swiftly toward the point, the officer waving his lantern in air as if making signals to some one. When Pierre saw that, he knew there were exciting times ahead.
“Give me the wheel, now,” said he; “and do you go for’ard and heave the lead until I tell you to stop. Station a man in the waist to pass the word, and tell him not to speak too loud. Tell two others to stand by the sheets, and send Bob aloft to unfurl the topsails. We have need of all the rags we can spread now.”
“What’s up?” asked Tomlinson, with some anxiety.
“There’ll be a good deal up if we don’t get away from here in a hurry,” replied Pierre; “more than you think for. But if you do as I tell you, I will bring you through all right. That fort will open on us in less than five minutes, and if that don’t stop us, we’ll have to run a race with a man o’ war.”