"Noank, New London," responded Vine Avery, at the rail. "Assorted cargo. We ran right in through a fleet of your sleepyheads. Do you belong to that clumsy corvette, yonder?"
"Shut your mouth!" snapped the officer. "We'll come for you, yet."
"Hurrah for the Continental Congress!" said Vine, maliciously. "If this 'ere wasn't a neutral port we'd board that tub o' yours and take her home with us. We want some more guns and powder anyhow!"
"You're a pirate!" roared the officer. "We've a right to take you out under the French law. You've no protection."
"Keep your distance," said Vine. "We'll be ready for you when you come."
Angry faces were beginning to show behind Vine. The British officer saw steel points like pikeheads, and he heard threatening exclamations, only half suppressed. As the representative of a man-of-war, he had an undoubted right to question the character of any merchant vessel whatever, and to make her commander exhibit his papers, if the meeting took place at sea. In harbor, however, under the guns of neutral forts, the case was different.
The Englishman had really obtained the information he came after, and he had no orders to go any further. He knew exactly the character of this schooner. Even the pike-heads could be read like good handwriting. He replied to Vine with hardly more than an angry growl and went back to report to his commander.
"Privateer, is she?" remarked that gentleman, after hearing him. "I supposed so. I'd lay the Syren alongside of her, if it wasn't for getting into hot water with the French and with the admiral. We'll try for some of her men, on board or on shore, and I'll have that schooner!"
The younger officer grumbled his readiness to cut out the rebel pirate that very night, but his wiser superior only laughed at him.
"There she is," he said, "with her head in the lion's mouth. We needn't shut our jaws on her till the right minute. Then it will be one good bite and we'll have her, men, cargo, and all."