stols, on the
other, cutlasses.

They had hardly seen this, when a glance forward showed them the captain
superintending the loading of the two bow guns, and as soon as this was
done he began to walk aft, while the boys discreetly walked forward
along the other side, so as to be out of the fierce-looking fellow's
way.

"I say, Ladle," whispered Vince, "this is like what we have often read
of. How do you feel? There's going to be a fight. Look! they're
loading the guns aft."

"Oh, I feel all right yet,--just a little shivery like. But what makes
you say there's going to be a fight?"

"Didn't you see the schooner hoist a flag?"

"Of course I did, but I thought she was a friend. Why are they going to
fight? Oh, I know: it's only a sham fight, for practice."

"I don't believe it is sham; the skipper looked too serious. I saw him
showing his teeth, and the men all look in earnest. They've been doing
something old Jacques don't like, and he's going to bring them to their
senses. Here, I say, you're not getting those ready for breakfast?"

They were opposite the galley as Vince spoke, and he had suddenly caught
sight of the cook, who was hurrying on his fire, and heating about half
a dozen rods of iron between the bars of the stove.

"Oh yes, I am," said the man, with a grin--"for somebody's breakfast. I
say, youngsters, I'd go down below if I was you; it may mean warm work
if the wind don't come soon."

"What has the wind to do with it?" said Vince.

"To do with it! Everything, my lad. If the wind comes, we shall run,
of course. We don't want to fight."

"But why are we going to fight the schooner?"

"The schooner!" said the man, staring. "Nonsense! She belongs to
Jarks, and trades to the south coast. Didn't you see her signal?"

"Yes."

"Well, that means one of King Billy's cutters is in sight from there,
and she'll be nearing before long."

"But what are those rods for?" said Mike eagerly.

"Don't be such a blockhead, Ladle!" cried Vince excitedly. "Why did we
make the poker red-hot when we wanted to fire the old ship gun on your
lawn?"

"Look--look!" cried Mike.

There was no need, for Vince had seen the white flying jib of a cutter
coming into sight round the end of the Crag, with plenty of wind urging
her on, while, by the time she was clear, a faint puff of light air made
the schooner's sails shiver, but only for a few moments, then it was
calm again, while the cutter, now quite