They all got into the boat, Rudolf took the oars, Ann sat in the bow with Peter beside her, and the False Hare settled himself comfortably in the stern with a mouse squeezed on either side of him.  He wanted to pet them a little, so he said, but from the strained expressions on their faces and the startled squeaks they gave from time to time, it seemed as if they were hardly enjoying his attentions.  The children loved being on the water better than anything else, and they would have been perfectly happy now, if the False Hare had not had quite so many nice compliments to make to Rudolf on his rowing, and if the white mice had not complained so bitterly of them all for “sitting all over the boat cushions,” and “wetting the nice dry oars!” They were enjoying themselves very much, in spite of this, when suddenly Ann, who had very sharp eyes, called out: 

“Sail ahead!”

At first Rudolf thought she had said this just because it sounded well, but on turning his head he saw for himself a small boat heading toward them as fast as it could come.  A moment more and the children could see the black flag floating at its masthead.

“Oh, oh!” screamed Ann, “that’s a skull and cross-bones.  It’s a pirate ship!”

“Hurrah!” Rudolf shouted.  “How awfully jolly!  Just like a book.”

“Dee-lightful!” the False Hare exclaimed, shuddering all over to the tips of his whiskers.  “If there’s one thing I do dote on it is pirates—­dear old things!”

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.”