“The Falcon, free rover,” replied Captain Vance, “and we want you to surrender.”
“We will never surrender to pirates,” answered Captain Johnson.
“If you surrender without resistance, we will spare the lives of all on board,” said the captain of the Falcon.
“I would rather sink the ship,” replied the captain of the Duchess.
“Woe be to you then,” exclaimed Captain Vance. “Your blood and that of those under your control be upon your own head.”
All this conversation between the vessels had been carried on through speaking-trumpets.
“Mr Seacome,” said Captain Vance to his first lieutenant, “display the flag.”
The pirate flag of those days, having a black ground with white skull and cross-bones displayed upon it, was immediately run up to the main mast-head of the brig.
The gale still continued to blow with great force, and the waves were running higher and higher. Though I have said that the vessels were about a hundred yards apart, it is not to be supposed that there was any regularity in the distance between them. Now one vessel would be far below, then far above the other, as she sank into the trough of a sea, or rose upon the crest of a wave. Now the surging waters would drive them farther apart, and now closer together. Meanwhile, near and far over the sea, the fiercely-labouring winds and billows loudly roared in wild unison their stern and complaining songs.
“Had we not better, captain,” asked Seacome, “keep as near as we can to the ship until this gale has fallen, and then make the assault? We could scarcely board in such a wind as this, even should she surrender.”