"I'll get one, though," muttered the skipper; and, sliding back one of the windows, he leant out.
"Stubbs, put a shot across that hooker's bows!" he shouted.
"Aye, aye, sir!" answered the gunner, and bent over a small quick-firer that was mounted on the well-deck forward.
Next moment there was a bright yellow flash and a reverberating boom. The shell was seen to strike the water some twenty yards in front of the Dutchman's bows, sending up a small pillar of foaming water. But the stranger, instead of stopping, suddenly altered her course, and a cloud of black smoke which began to pour out of her funnel showed that she was firing up.
"All right!" ejaculated the skipper. "But we'll cop her yet. Looks suspicious, her cuttin' away like that. Climb on the fo'c'sle and signal that if she don't stop we'll sink her!"
Lawless descended the ladder, staggered across the slippery, reeling deck, and mounted the fo'c'sle head. Crooking one arm round a stay to steady himself, he jerked out the signal in a somewhat uneven succession of dots and dashes. Still the stranger made no answering signal, and at last he climbed down.
"Put a shot through her funnel!" yelled Chard.
The gunner breathed hard as he adjusted the sights and waited till the O47 swung up for a second on an even keel.
Bang!
The shell sped true, for where the Dutchman's funnel had stood there was now only a jagged stump of metal, with columns of smoke issuing out of it. Also her captain had seen fit to slow down at last.