"D—n my eyes! think o' bein' bottled down here, and a royal pennant within hail! It's enough to make one's biler bust!" growled Noah, hitching up his trousers.
"Hark; they are hailing—now the pirates are lying to," said Captain Phillips, as they heard the now ungreased sling of the mainyard grating under the top, when it was swung round, and the ship lay to.
"Ship ahoy!" cried a clear and somewhat authoritative voice, that came distinctly over the water about a hundred yards distant.
"Hollo!" responded Pedro, through Captain Phillips's speaking trumpet, as he sprang on one of the starboard carronade slides, while the ship plunged, as she rose and fell impatiently on the long rollers and heavy swell made by what was evidently the screw propeller of a large steamer.
"What ship is that?" demanded the same voice.
"The General Jackson, of Boston, United States," replied Pedro without hesitation.
"They did well to muffle up her stern—Hermione, of London, is painted there plain enough," said Captain Phillips.
"Where from, and whither bound?"
"From Boston to Bombay direct," replied Pedro.
"Why didn't you show your colours?" was the next rather suspicious question of the British officer.