I stretched myself comfortably on a coil of rope and awaited developments, thinking, of course, that the instant Dunmore heard our names we would be released.
"It's no use, we are in for it," said Barron, smiling, "I only hope we will catch up with the frigate before Captain Cahill recovers from that tap. Very neatly done, Will, most remarkable—if it had been a trifle further forward though it would have made a pretty mess of things—Hello! What's that?"
We were on the weather side of the schooner, and she was heeling over and going through the water at a great rate. The rush of the waves was quite loud and continuous against the vessel's side, but above the noise I could hear a hail from somewhere in the distance to windward. Then came an answer from the schooner's deck—
"Three men!" bawled Mr. Rose from somewhere above us. Then came another hail.
"Don't know," bawled the Lieutenant in reply. "One named Perkins, of Perkins' hole."
Then came another pause followed by another hail.
"Two young—one old, with a face like the breech of a brass carronnade—all alive and well—no one hurt."
A pause.
"Didn't suppose you knew them"—
Another pause.