"So they are, by zounds!" the puzzled captain exclaimed.

"What will you do?"

After a moment's hesitation, the captain said:

"Heave to, by Jove, and see what they want!"

The order was given, and the vessel rocked idly on the waves, while the
boat drew rapidly nearer. At last it was near enough for them to make
out the five men dressed in the uniform of British marines.

"Brown, I don't like this. Those fellows are from his majesty's frigate,
there is no doubt, and they mean us trouble."

"Wait and see, captain," the mate answered, coming down to the deck.
"There are but five of them, and, so far as I can see, all are unarmed."
The deck by this time was crowded with the crew, all waiting in anxious
expectation and dread.

"It am de press gang!" said the cook, who was a negro black as the ace
of spades named Job. "Dey am comin' to take off everybody dat looks like
a Britisher. Golly! do I look like a Britisher?"

Notwithstanding the gravity of the situation, a smile flitted
momentarily over the faces of the officers and crew. The boat by this
time was within hailing distance, though it had grown so dark the
inmates of it could be only dimly seen.

"Boat, ahoy!" cried the captain.