"It looks a little nasty off towards the shore, sir," replied the second lieutenant. "I should say it was going to be just what that pirate would like to have."
"Why do you call her a pirate?" asked the commander with a smile. "Probably she is not armed."
"I call her a pirate because she looks like one; but I think a blockade-runner is a hundred degrees better than a pirate; and our British friends plainly look upon them as doing a legitimate business. I rather think that highflyer will run into a fog before she gets to the shore."
"She has nothing to fear from the two steamers that are chasing her," added Christy. "We are to have a finger in this pie."
"No doubt of that; and I hope we shall make a hole through her before she gets to the coast."
"She is not more than a mile and a half from us now, and our midship gun is good for more than that; but I don't think it is advisable to waste our strength in firing at her just yet."
"That's just my way of thinking," said Mr. Makepeace, with something like enthusiasm in his manner; and he was evidently delighted to find that the commander knew what he was about, as he would have phrased it.
"The rakish steamer seems to be headed to the west south-west, and she is exactly south-east of us. We can see that she is sailing very fast; but how fast has not yet been demonstrated. How high should you rate her speed, Mr. Makepeace?"
"I should say, Captain Passford, that she was making eighteen knots an hour. She is kicking up a big fuss about it; and I'll bet a long-nine cigar that she is doing her level best."
"I don't believe she is doing any better than that," added Christy. "Make the course south south-west, Mr. Baskirk."