As for the two white mice, after one glance at the ship, they gave
two little shrieks and hid their faces in their paws.

Rudolf shipped his oars while he loosened his sword. "I shall be
prepared to fight," said he, "though I am afraid we must make up our
minds to being captured. Our enemy's boat is not so large--it's not
much more than a catboat--but there are only four of us, as the mice
don't count, and I suppose there must be at least a dozen of the
pirates."

The False Hare smiled a sickly sort of smile. "And such nice ones," he
murmured. "Such gentle, well-behaved, well-brought-up, _polite_
pirates! Just the sort your dear parents would like to have you meet.
_Those_ fellows don't know anything about shooting, stabbing,
mast-heading or plank-walking; _oh_, no! _They_ don't do such things."

Ann turned pale at the False Hare's words, but Rudolf only laughed.
"What luck!" he exclaimed. "I'm nine years old and I've never seen a
real live pirate, and goodness knows when I ever will again--I
wouldn't miss this for anything." Then, as he saw how really worried
his little sister looked, he added cheerfully. "They may sail right
past without speaking to us, you know."

But this was not to be the case. Nearer and nearer came the pirate
craft until at last the children could see, painted in black letters
on her side, her name, _The Merry Mouser_. A group of pirates was
gathered at the rail, staring at the rowboat through their glasses.
There was no mistake about these fellows being pirates--that was easy
enough to see from their queer bright-colored clothes and the number
of weapons they carried, even if the ugly black flag had not been