For the Palembang showed nothing above her reefed topsails, and the foresail had a reef in it, and the Simoom came after her like the inside edge of a cyclone.
"Gimme my trumpet," cried Banks. "Mr. Green, take the wheel, and run her as close as maybe."
And the second mate stood at the main-topsail halliards.
"Palembang ahoy!" yelled Banks through his trumpet as he came tearing up on the weather side of his enemy's ship.
"Where the blue blazes are you coming to?" shrieked Spiller, who was both drunk and angry.
"Passing you as if you was standing still, you low, uneducated swine," said Banks. "And I could do it under jury rig."
"What about them rocks?" jeered Spiller through his trumpet. "What's the price of vigias, you notorious old liar, you disgrace to the perfession?"
They were close alongside now, not half a cable's length apart; a good cricketer could have shied a cricket ball the distance easily.
"Leggo the main-topsail halliards," said Banks, and then to the surprise of his crew and the utter astonishment of Spiller he poured out a torrent of the most blood-curdling abuse which had ever defiled the Indian or any other ocean.
"You think I'm soft, you dog," he boomed through his spurt of blasphemy, "and reckon because I've got notions of decency I'm to be trod on. Run on my rocks and sink and burn."