tience as he best could.

At last the order was given to fire, and for an hour after that a
running fight was maintained, but without much effect. When, however,
the two ships of the enemy succeeded in drawing sufficiently near to
each other, they hove to, and awaited the advance of the _Waterwitch_,
plying her vigorously with shot as she came on.

Captain Ward only replied with his bow chasers at first. He walked the
deck with his hands behind his back without speaking, and, as far as his
countenance expressed his feelings, he might have been waiting for a
summons to dinner, instead of hastening to engage in an unequal contest.

"Cap'n Ward niver growls much before he bites," said Patrick Flinn, an
Irishman, who belonged to Bowls's mess. "He minds me of a spalpeen of a
dog I wance had, as was uncommon fond o' fightin' but niver even showed
his teeth till he was within half a yard of his inemy, but, och! he
gripped him then an' no mistake. You'll see, messmates, that we won't
give 'em a broadside till we're within half pistol-shot."

"Don't take on ye the dooties of a prophet, Paddy," said Ben Bolter,
"for the last time ye tried it ye was wrong."

"When was that?" demanded Flinn.

"Why, no longer ago than supper-time last night, when ye said ye had
eaten such a lot that ye wouldn't be able to taste another bite for a
month to come, an' didn't I see ye pitchin' into the wittles this
mornin' as if ye had bin starvin' for a week past?"

"Git along wid ye," retorted Flinn; "yer jokes is as heavy as yerself,
an' worth about as much."

"An' how much may that be?" asked Ben, with a grin.

"Faix, it's not aisy to tell. I would need to work it out in a
algibrabical calkilation, but if ye divide the half o' what ye know by
the double o' what ye don't know, an' add the quarter o' what ye might
have know'd--redoocin' the whole to nothin', by means of a compound o'
the rule o' three and sharp practice, p'r'aps you'll--"

Flinn's calculation was cut short at that moment by the entrance of a
round shot, which pierced the ship's side just above his head, and sent
splinters flying in all directions, one of which killed a man at the
next gun, and another struck Bill Bowls on the left arm, wounding him
slightly.

The exclamations and comments of the men at the gun were stopped
abruptly by the orders to let the ship fall off and fire a broadside.

The _Waterwitch_ trembled under the discharge, and then a loud cheer
arose