"Ye're surely daft even to think of it, Peter!" "Not so daft as you when you talk of fighting that." He flung out an arm as he spoke to indicate the pursuing ships, which were slowly but surely creeping nearer.

"Before we've run another half-mile we shall be within range." Wolverstone swore elaborately, then suddenly checked.

Out of the tail of his single eye he had espied a trim figure in grey silk that was ascending the companion.

So engrossed had they been that they had not seen Miss Bishop come from the door of the passage leading to the cabin.
And there was something else that those three men on the poop, and Pitt immediately below them, had failed to observe.

Some moments ago Ogle, followed by the main body of his gun-deck crew, had emerged from the booby hatch, to fall into muttered, angrily vehement talk with those who, abandoning the gun-tackles upon which they were labouring, had come to crowd about him.
Even now Blood had no eyes for that.