"Ho—the ship, a-hoy!"
"Hillo!"
"What ship is that?"
This was answered Scotch fashion—"What felucca is that?"
Lanyard did not choose to stand on ceremony, so to save bother, he replied, "The tender to his Britannic Majesty's ship Gazelle. So heave-to, and I will send a boat on board of you."
The strange sail, however, kept all fast, and stood steadily on his course.
"If you don't shorten sail, and round-to, I will fire into you?"
Another long pause.—Dick's patience was fast evaporating; and, "All ready with the gun, there?" was already on his tongue, when the stranger again hailed.
"What ship is that down to leeward, there?"
"The Gazelle," was the answer.