Several little flags followed one another up to the cruiser's mastheads.

"Get out the code, Mr. Duff," ordered the captain. "He's signaling.
What in the mischief can he want?"

Duff plunged into the cabin, reappearing a moment later with the signal
book. Opening this, he compared the flags as seen through the glass
with similar ones in the book, and their meanings.

"Well?" said the captain impatiently.

"He orders us to heave to under his quarter. Says he is going to send
a boat aboard.

"The deuce he is! Well, I suppose we might as well do as he says.
Strikes me as a pretty high handed proceeding though, in time of peace.
Look! There go his colors at last. British, by thunder!"

As the cross of St. George unfolded to the breeze, Captain Gary,
looking somewhat anxious, bade Duff obey the cruiser's order; then
hastened below in the wake of his first mate and boatswain.

By the time the Curlew had rounded to, a boat was leaving the warship's
side as she lay broadside, hardly a quarter of a mile off. Though the
sea was still rough, six pair of oars brought the boat spinning over
the waves.

Two officers were in the stern sheets, one of whom--a young third
lieutenant--was soon on the deck of the schooner.