By daybreak her coal was aboard, then came cleaning up, and preparations
to depart. Captain Shewell's eye was now much on the Cormorant. He had
escaped one danger, he had landed half a million dollars' worth of opium
in the night, under the very nose of the law, and while Customs boats
were patrolling the bay; there was another danger--the inquisitiveness of
the Cormorant. It was etiquette for him to call upon the captain of the
Cormorant, and he ought to have done so the evening before, but he had
not dared to run the risk, nor could he venture this morning. And yet if
the Cormorant discovered that the Hornet was not a British man-of-war,
but a bold and splendid imposture, made possible by a daring ex-officer
of the British Navy, she might open fire, and he could make but a sorry
fight, for he was equipped for show rather than for deadly action. He
had got this ex-British man-of-war two years before, purchased in Brazil
by two adventurous spirits in San Francisco, had selected his crew
carefully, many of them deserters from the British Navy, drilled them,
and at last made this bold venture under the teeth of a fortress, and at
the mouth of a warship's guns.

Just as he was lifting anchor to get away, he saw a boat shoot out from
the side of the Cormorant. Captain Debney, indignant at the lack of
etiquette, and a little suspicious also now--for there was no Hornet in
the Pacific Squadron, though there was a Hornet, he knew, in the China
Squadron--was coming to visit the discourteous commander.

He was received with the usual formalities, and was greeted at once by
Captain Shewell. As the eyes of the two men met both started, but
Captain Debney was most shaken. He turned white, and put out his hand to
the bulwark to steady himself. But Captain Shewell held the hand that
had been put out; shook it, pressed it. He tried to urge Captain Debney
forward, but the other drew back to the gangway.