“No!” shouted a voice. And there was a murmur among the crew.
“Then I call upon you to help me fight this ship,” cried the captain, in ringing tones. “Stand to your guns manfully, and I promise, in one hour, to give you victory.”
A cheer swelled up and broke into a frantic hurrah; then with a wave of the hand the chief dismissed them to their stations.
“They will fight now,” remarked Ethan to Longsword.
“They will, faith,” said the Irish dragoon. “And it’s little chance of defeat we have if they do their best, for there are some useful lads among them, Master Ethan.”
John Paul Jones now stood out to sea and drew his foe as far away from shore as possible.
“In case he is defeated,” said the commander to Ethan, “Burdon might escape back into the harbor if we fought too far in shore.”
“Look at the yachts coming out with her,” said the young American who had watched every movement of the Englishman.
Paul Jones laughed.
“They desire to be eye-witnesses of an English victory, doubtless. It is a pity to dash their hopes, but I’m afraid that we will be forced to do so.”