"Zounds, don't I wish I had a few heavy guns."

There was but one small brass piece aboard, and it was only a six
pounder, unable to render much service. His country was nominally at
peace with Great Britain; but that did not prevent honest merchantmen
suffering at the hands of the British cruisers.

The afternoon wore away and the sun had set before there was breeze
enough to fill a sail. Just as the vessel began to glide slowly away
from the small island not more than two miles distant, the mate, who had
ascended to the lookout's position cried:

"Boat, ho!"

"Where away?"

"To leeward, heading direct for us."

The captain seized his glass and turned it toward the island. The sombre
shades of twilight had already gathered over the scene; but he saw
through them quite distinctly a boat pulled by four men, while a fifth
sat in the stern holding the tiller. The steersman kept the small island
between them and the vessel Captain Parson had discovered.

As the breeze grew stiffer and the _Dover_ began to fill away, the mate,
who had never taken his glass off the approaching boat, suddenly cried:

"Captain Parson, they are signalling us to heave to!"