"Diable!" he exclaimed. "I'm not afraid of my government."
"Throw it overboard, Speake," said Matt, handing the revolver to Speake. "We don't need that thing here. If I can't have obedience on the Grampus without looking at her crew over the sights of a gun, I don't want it."
Speake, without a word, took the revolver and went up the ladder into the conning tower.
"From this on, Don Ramon Ortega," said Matt, "you will consider yourself a passenger. I will treat you better than your conduct demands, and will not make a prisoner of you unless you attempt to interfere with the management of the boat. Do you understand that?"
The don muttered something under his breath.
Before Matt could speak further, a shout came from Speake.
"Small boat off the starboard beam, close in!"
"By Jupiter!" exclaimed Gaines, pushing farther into the hood of the periscope. "Look here, Matt!"
As Matt turned, an evil, triumphant light flashed in the don's eyes. Matt could not see it, and it escaped Clackett.
In the mirror top of the periscope table, clear and distinct, was reflected a ship's boat, a yawl, heaving helplessly on the waves. The boat was not over a hundred feet from the submarine, and the periscope showed it with startling fidelity to detail.