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A long-drawn, irrepressible aspiration of expectancy rose from the warship's decks as the stranger raised his haggard face, turned eyes unseeingly upon them, and fell back. The forward occupant stirred not, save as the boat rolled. From between decks someone called out, sharply, an order.
But war-vessels carried pulse instruments which could measure distances within feet up to thousands of miles, and by phase-scrambling among the echoes even get some information about the size and shape of the object examined. Not much, but some. Bors relaxed. Things were going well. When four other ranging-pulses arrived at second intervals, he nodded to himself. This was a warship's reaction.
No sooner had Jack, who was in the rear, disappeared through the manhole than the professor, with a quick jump, followed him. "Here! Come back!" shouted the warship's captain as he saw Mr. Henderson's head disappearing from view. "Come back I say!" But with a quick movement the inventor pulled down the manhole cover and clamped it.
One would have supposed that, after seven years spent in the jovial atmosphere of a warship's wardroom, his solitary life in the great forests would quickly have become intolerable, and I expressed myself to this effect.
The Spaniards left their guns, and strove to thrust her away, but the fire spread so rapidly that they could not do so. The flames caught the warship's sails, and ran along her sides with such fury that her men had hardly time to get away from her before she blew her bows out, and went to the bottom.
By the time the Curlew had rounded to, a boat was leaving the warship's side as she lay broadside, hardly a quarter of a mile off. Though the sea was still rough, six pair of oars brought the boat spinning over the waves. Two officers were in the stern sheets, one of whom a young third lieutenant was soon on the deck of the schooner. At this juncture Captain Gary reappeared, followed by Rucker.
He had got this ex-British man-of-war two years before, purchased in Brazil by two adventurous spirits in San Francisco, had selected his crew carefully, many of them deserters from the British Navy, drilled them, and at last made this bold venture under the teeth of a fortress, and at the mouth of a warship's guns.
His shadower, evidently much concerned in his actions, crept slowly and stealthily forward, approaching nearer and still nearer without being observed. A dim light became visible on the warship's deck and then vanished. Still the man stood there watching, a puzzled, anxious look coming into his face. Quickly the light reappeared two flashes, a pause, two flashes, a pause, and then a single flash.
The little party on shore watched with eager eyes the chase as shown by the bright beam from the warship's searchlight. In the excitement of the novel sight that was afforded them they for the moment forgot why they were there. Then a strange and mysterious thing happened. As they watched the pursued vessel they suddenly saw a flash from a gun on the side facing the land.
As they drew away from the boat the cruiser began to fire one gun after another. Each discharge sent apprehensive thrills through the slaver's crew. Finally a whole broadside of the warship's upper battery came shrieking over the water. Trouble of Another Kind. "That was a close call," exclaimed Rucker, as a shot cut away one of the jib stays, carrying down the flying jib.
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