When they see'd that one go short they fires another, an' the signalman sings out that it is comin' straight for us, and lays down on 'is belly; he never done this since—we chaffed 'im so immerciful—and a good many of the youngsters would 'ave done the same if they'd had the moral courage, what they hadn't.
It did come mighty close and struck the water not fifty yards away, buzzing off again like a hive of bees out for a airing.
Well, you bet we didn't wait for any more o' them "kind enquiries and 'ow are you", but were hup, hoff, an' hout of it, hout of range.
"No. 2" came along more gently after us, for nothing short of a mad dawg would make Mr. Lang move 'urriedly unless 'e wanted to partickler, an', bless my 'eart! 'e wouldn't 'urry out of range for no pirates, though the Laird 'oisted "close on the flag-ship" and fired a small gun to make 'im pay attention.
And all the time we watched them getting his range and dropping shell, first on one side and then on the other, first a'ead and then astern, a-holding our breath, sometimes they was going so close, though they never hit 'im.
When he did get out o' range an' they ceased firing, we rather got the hump that we'd run away so fast.
"I'm taking no chances," I 'eard Mr. Parker say to the Sub-lootenant, as 'e keeps his eye on "No. 2" with great spouts of water splashin' hup all round her, and p'raps 'e was right.
It was pretty well dark afore we got back to the Laird, and both Mr. Parker and Mr. Lang had to go aboard for more orders, whilst we went to supper.
Cooky was in a great state o' mind. "That second shot," says 'e, putting 'is 'ead out, "was comin' straight for my galley. If the pirate what fired it 'ad lowered 'is sights a 'ands turn, and been a temp'rance man, it would 'ave been all U.P. with your blooming tea water, an' there wouldn't 'ave been no more cooking aboard this 'ere ship, an' no more Cooky to cook vittles an' play the 'armonium."
The Skipper comes back from the Laird, and she an' the Sylvia steam slowly away into the darkness, showin' not a single light, though we could trace them for about a mile, when they just seemed to disappear, leaving us alone for the night a-feelin' lonesome-like.