"Not this time, Johnny Bull; not this time," he laughed, slapping one of his companions on the shoulder. "I know her; it's the Plantaganet; and I'd go overboard with a shot at my heels before I put a foot on her deck. She reeks of the cat!"
I was soon to learn why this man, whose name was Dash, knew so much. As soon as he had finished his dancing, the tall sailor and another man ran aft.
"Shall we show our colors, sir?" the former asked of Captain Morrison.
"Ay; toss them out," replied the Captain, whose good humor had now returned.
A minute later the stars and stripes were crackling at our peak. The line-of-battle ship was almost even with us by this time. Faces could be seen above her bulwarks. Suddenly a puff of white smoke burst out from one of her forward ports, and a ball skipped and plashed across our bows—so close that we heard the slap of it against the water; then the report came to us. The Captain mounted the bulwarks, and taking off his hat, made an elaborate bow.
"Sorry I cannot stop, you great big hog," he said; and then standing there bareheaded, he burst into such a torrent of cursing that Mrs. Chaffee, who had come out of the cabin, and was anxious to see the sight, sought its refuge again. But we had outpointed the battle-ship, and crossed athwart her bows.
Not three hundred yards astern of us she roared past.
"She dassent fire a broadside at us, or she'd do it in a minute," muttered Mr. Norcross, looking back over his shoulder.
He had taken the wheel himself during the last few minutes, and had handled it amazingly, I can tell you.
As if afraid to acknowledge her discomfiture, the three-decker went on in silence, like she had not seen us, and our men, who were now all in the rigging of the brig, burst out into a cheer.