As she came round the curve the two shores were seen to converge at a point about a mile distant.

In the angle, as near shore as she could get, the brig was lying with her broadside towards her pursuer and a wisp of black cloth streaming from her mizzen.
The lean lieutenant, who had reappeared upon deck with a cutlass strapped to his side and two pistols rammed into his belt, peered curiously at the ensign.
"Is it the Jolly Rodger, sir ?" he asked.
But the captain was furious.
"He may hang where his breeches are hanging before I have done with him!" said he.

"What boats will you want, Mr.Wharton ?" "We should do it with the launch and the jolly-boat." "Take four and make a clean job of it.

Pipe away the crews at once, and I'll work her in and help you with the long eighteens." With a rattle of ropes and a creaking of blocks the four boats splashed into the water.

Their crews clustered thickly into them: bare-footed sailors, stolid marines, laughing middies, and in the sheets of each the senior officers with their stern schoolmaster faces.