“They’ll fire at me, will they?” growled the captain with a curse.  “And chase me, will they?  By jimmy, they shall sink me before I surrender!”

“Degeneres animos timor arguit,” quoted Diggle, smiling.

“Argue it?  I’ll be hanged if I argue it!  They’re not king’s ships to take it on ’emselves to stop me on the high seas!  If the Company wants to prevent me from honest trading in these waters let ’em go to law, and be hanged to ’em!  Talk of arguing!  Lawyer’s work.  Humph!”

“You mistake, Barker.  The Roman fellow whose words slipped out of my mouth almost unawares said nothing of arguing.  ’Fear is the mark of only base minds’:  so it runs in English, captain; which is as much as to say that Captain Ben Barker is not the man to haul down his colors in a hurry.”

“You’re right there.  Another shot!  That’s their argument:  well, Ben Barker can talk that way as well as another.”

He called up the boatswain.  Shortly afterwards the order was piped, “Up all hammocks!” The men quickly stowed their bedding, secured it with lashings, and carried it to the appointed places on the quarterdeck, poop, or forecastle.  Meanwhile the boatswain and his mates secured the yards; the ship’s carpenter brought up shot plugs for repairing any breeches made under the waterline; and the gunners looked to the cannon and prepared charges for them and the small arms.

Bulger was in charge of the twelve-pounder aft, and Mr. Toley had tolled off Desmond to assist him.  They stood side by side watching the progress of the grab, which gained steadily in spite of the plunging due to its curious build.  Presently another shot came from her; it shattered the belfry on the forecastle of the Good Intent, and splashed into the sea a hundred yards ahead.

“They make good practice, for sartin,” remarked Bulger.  “I may be wrong, but I’ll lay my life there be old man-o’-war’s men aboard.  I mind me when I was with Captain Golightly on the Minotaur—­”

But Bulger’s yarn was intercepted.  At that moment the boatswain piped, “All hands to quarters!” In a surprisingly short time all timber was cleared away, the galley fire was extinguished, the yards slung, the deck strewn with wet sand, and sails, booms, and boats liberally drenched with water.  The gun captains, each with his crew, cast loose the lashings of their weapons and struck open the ports.  The tompions was taken out; the sponge, rammer, crows and handspikes placed in readiness, and all awaited eagerly the word for the action to begin.

“’Tis about time we opened our mouths at ’em,” said Bulger.  “The next bolus they send us as like as not will bring the spars a-rattlin’ about our ears.  To be sure it goes against my stummick to fire on old messmates; but it en’t in Englishmen to hold their noses and swallow pills o’ that there size.  We’ll load up all ready, mateys.”