"Adieu!" shouted Scott in mocking tones.

"Do you suppose the villain spoke the truth, Captain?" asked Louis.

"Very likely he did, though he is not in the habit of doing so," replied Scott, laughing; but he was accustomed to put the best face upon an awkward situation.

The boat was pulling away from the Maud, and the danger of an attack was removed for the present. Mazagan appeared to be urging his men to pull with all their might, and they were doing so. He evidently had a purpose before him, born of his failure to accomplish anything by his visit to the Maud.

It seemed to be incredible that this man could be sane and sensible to make such a proposition as he had put forward; and doubtless it was done to clothe piracy in a more seemly garb than it usually wears. It was simply ridiculous on the face of it, with no imaginable foundation for the preposterous claim advanced.

Mazagan went on board of his steamer, and a few minutes later a cloud of black smoke began to pour out of her smokestack. Captain Scott had already ordered Felipe to put his furnaces in order for quick time. At the indication given of the firing up of the enemy, he went to the engine-room himself. Don was at work on the fires; and he gave Felipe directions to get up all the steam possible, and to prepare to run the Maud at the greatest speed she had ever attained.

Then he went to the pilot-house, and did not appear to be inclined to talk even with Louis. He went to work upon the chart which included Khrysoko Bay, called Pifanio on some maps, and studied intently for a considerable time. It was clear to all on deck that he had something in his head, and it was believed that he was preparing to meet the boastful threats of Captain Mazagan.

"Well, my darling, what is to be the next scene in the comedy?" asked Felix, as he seated himself by Louis in the bow.

"I don't know, Felix; but whatever it may be, Captain Scott is evidently getting ready to play his part in it," replied Louis, still watching the captain through the open front windows of the pilot-house.

"They are making the steam sizzle below, and I suppose the captain has ordered this to be done. By the powers of mud! Do you mind that?"

exclaimed the Milesian, pointing to the Fatime.

"What of her?"

"Don't you see that she has a gun run out on her port side? She had just thrown open the port when I spoke," replied Felix.

"Then the pirate spoke the truth for once," added Louis.

"He said the vessel had been armed with two twelve-pounders, and we have not even one. I suppose she has the other on the starboard side. If she had half a dozen of those playthings she might do something."

"She may do a deal of mischief with two of them if they are well handled," suggested Louis.

"She can't use but one of them at once, and she will have to come entirely about before she can do anything with the other. Her top-gallant forecastle isn't big enough for them, as the Guardian-Mother's is for hers. I am not much scared yet, my darling."

"Neither am I, Flix; but I think this is about the tightest place we have been in since we came across the Atlantic."

"Captain Scott will arrange the affair all right. If I were a sporting-man, I would bet on him yet," protested Felix.

"But while we are not scared, you know that it is possible for one of those guns to put a shot through our boiler, rip out the engine, or tear a big hole in the plates of the Maud," added Louis.

"We can plug the shot-holes--I believe that is what they call it."

"We have not a single one of the old man-of-war's-men of the Guardian-Mother on board who can tell us what to do in case of accident."

"But we won't croak, whatever else we do. If we are to be sent to the bottom of this bay, we will go down with the best grace possible," added Felix, who was certainly in as good humor as ever he was, in spite of the bra.s.s gun that protruded at the side of the Fatime. "Do you suppose Captain Scott knows about that twelve-pounder?"

"He appears to be very busy; and I doubt if he has looked at the enemy since he went into the pilot-house," replied Louis. "I think I had better tell him that Mazagan spoke the truth about his guns."

The young men might well have been excused if they had been intimidated at the situation as it was now presented to them. That the Maud was to be the mark for the cannon of the enemy looked like a settled fact; but no one seemed to be at all excited or nervous. It is true that all of them had been in several fights. They had fought the fishermen in the Canaries, the smugglers at Gibraltar, the Greek pirates in the Archipelago, and the brigands at Zante. They had had some experience of danger, but they had never come into the presence of great guns before.

They were to face these on the present occasion; at least, they were prepared to do so.

Before Louis could reach the pilot-house, he saw the captain standing at the wheel, and heard one bell in the engine-room on the gong. It was evident that he was ready to carry out his plan, whatever it was; for he was not expected to announce it. Felix observed the Fatime and her twelve-pounder, whistling, "Just before the Battle, Mother."

CHAPTER XI

AN EXPEDIENT TO ESCAPE THE ENEMY

Captain Scott had directed Morris to heave up the anchor before he buried himself in his study of the chart in the pilot-house, and to do it in such a manner as not to attract the attention of the Fatime's people. It was not a very heavy anchor that was required for a craft of the size of the Maud, and it had been done very easily and quietly.

Louis went into the pilot-house, where the captain was behind the wheel by this time. He was gazing intently at the conic rock which rose from the water a cable's length ahead of him, off a point on the main sh.o.r.e.

When he brought the little steamer in to her anchorage in the morning, the lead had been kept going all the time, and he had noted the soundings on the log-slate at his side. It was now dead low tide, and the last sounding had given fifteen feet.

"I suppose you have noticed a change in the appearance of the Fatime, Captain Scott," said Louis, as he took his place opposite him.

"What change? I haven't glanced at her. I don't like the looks of her, for she stirs up bad blood in me. I have been trying to be a saint like you, Louis, and it is the most difficult enterprise in which I ever engaged," replied Scott, as he directed his attention to her. "I don't see any change in her."

"Don't you see that gun sticking out through her bulwark?" asked Louis.

"I see it now, but I had not noticed it before," answered the captain.

"Then Mazagan was not lying when he said that his vessel had been armed since he took command of her. I suppose I ought to be frightened at the appearance of that twelve-pounder, poking its muzzle out the side of the vessel; but somehow I am not a bit scared," said the captain, with a broader smile on his face than usual.

"But twelve-pound shot are not agreeable missiles to have plumped through the side of the Maud."

"Perhaps not; but the lively little craft is built of extra strength, and she can stand a few of them. I am more concerned about the speed of the Fatime than I am about her guns. Of course she has another gun on her starboard side."

"Of course."

"If Mazagan had consulted me in regard to the placing of them, he could not have arranged them to suit me any better. But her speed is of more consequence than her guns."

"I judge from that, that you intend to run away from her," suggested Louis.

"Louis," said Captain Scott, looking at his companion with a very serious expression for him, "there is a recording angel hovering over and around me all the time."

"I suppose every fellow has one near him, to make a note of all his thoughts and actions, though we don't often take notice of his presence."

"I believe all that, and that we shall be held responsible for all we do and say, and even for what we think," replied Scott.

"A fellow has to keep a guard over his thoughts, for they are the foundation of his actions."

"But you are taking a higher flight than I am, Louis, and we will overhaul your idea some other time, when there are no twelve-pounders near," interposed the captain, as he glanced at the enemy. "My recording angel is not one of the sort you are thinking about; though, metaphorically speaking, I believe in those to whom you allude. If my winged spirit, so constantly near me at times like the present especially, were to materialize, he would present the photograph of Captain Royal Ringgold."

Louis could not help smiling as he imagined the angel described; and he thought the dignified commander made a rather odd-looking ethereal being.

"I am not making fun of the idea, Louis; the commander seems to be close aboard of me when there is any doubtful question to be decided by me as captain of this craft," continued Scott. "He is looking at me, and writing down all I do and say, ready to hold me responsible for everything when I meet him again. He is bigger and more present, so to speak, just now than ever before. If he knew the situation here at the present moment, it would half worry the life out of him, though he would be as dignified as ever."

"You have made a picture of your sense of responsibility; and I am glad you feel it so keenly," added Louis.