"Will you go in disguise?"
"Yes. We took two or three suits of clothes from that fishing-boat that we overhauled yesterday. I did so on purpose. You see, if one was going on such a business among what you might call civilised people, I should go in uniform, for then if I were caught I should not be shot as a spy; but among these ruffians the uniform would be no protection for me, and I shall therefore go in one of the fishermen's suits. You see I speak French as well as English, and shall run very small risk. Of course I shall take a brace of pistols and a good heavy stick, and if any one interferes with me they must take the consequences."
After proceeding a mile farther along the coast the schooner's head was turned seaward, and she ran twenty miles off the coast. Just as Vignerolles was about to give the order to bring her head round again, the look-out from the cross-trees shouted down, "A sail on the weather-bow."
"What does she look like?" Peter asked.
"I can't make her out yet, sir, her upper sails are only just up, but I should say that she was a large craft."
Peter gave the order to lower the top-sails. "We had better keep out of her sight as long as we can, Harding; she may be a French frigate or man-of-war making for Toulon, and as she has the wind pretty nearly free, it would be as well to give her a wide berth. If she is a merchantman, we will sail out to meet her. It is not likely that she has got news yet of war being declared, and she won't suspect any harm until too late."
It was some time before the man at the mast-head again hailed them.
"She is a three-masted ship, sir, but I don't fancy from the cut of her sails that she is a ship of war."
"I will come up and have a look at her myself," Peter said, and slinging his glass over his shoulder he made his way aloft.