"The very thing! we can't afford to lose time."
Our arrangements did not take long to make, and we were soon speeding across the bay, our crazy boat being propelled by two wiry Indians. The whole squadron was now well within the bay, the smaller craft lying close in, and flying the Chilian colours; but José directed the boatmen to pull for the flagship.
"San Martin ahoy!" he yelled, standing up in the stern and hailing the ship in what he believed to be sailor fashion.
"Hullo! Who are you?" came the answer.
"Is Admiral Cochrane on board?"
"Well, he was a minute ago."
"Throw a rope, will you? we're coming up."
This conversation was carried on in English, for many officers in the Chilian navy were Englishmen; and now the man on the San Martin exclaimed, "Well, you're a cool customer anyhow! Walt a bit while I tell the captain."
"Hang the captain!" roared José; "it's a matter of life and death." And those on deck, seeing how terribly in earnest he was, flung over a rope, and we scrambled up the ship's side.
"Now, my man," exclaimed a sharp voice, "what is it you are in such a tremendous hurry about?"