On turning their heads, and looking in the direction where he was pointing, they saw a steamboat approaching them.  It was coming from the head of the bay on the New Brunswick side, and had hitherto been concealed by the projecting cape.

“What’s that?” said Bart.  “Is it the St. John steamer?”

“No, sir,” said the captain.  She’s a man-o’-war steamer—­the revenoo cutter, I do believe.”

“How do you know?”

“Why, by her shape.”

“She seems to be coming this way.”

“Yes, bound to Minas Bay, I s’pose.  Wal, wal, wal! strange too,—­ how singoolarly calm an onterrified I feel in’ardly.  Why, boys, I’ve seen the time when the sight of a approachin revenoo vessel would make me shiver an shake from stem to starn.  But now how changed!  Such, my friends, is the mootability of human life!”

The boys looked at the steamer for a few moments, but at length went back to their fishing.  The approaching steamer had nothing in it to excite curiosity:  such an object was too familiar to withdraw their thoughts from the excitement of their lines and hooks, and the hope which each had of surpassing the other in the number of catches animated them to new trials.  So they soon forgot all about the approaching steamer.

But Captain Corbet had nothing else to do, and so, whether it was on account of his lack of employment, or because of the sake of old associations, he kept his eyes fixed on the steamer.  Time passed on, and in the space of another half hour she had drawn very near to the Antelope.

Suddenly Captain Corbet slapped his hand against his thigh.

“Declar, if they ain’t a goin to overhaul us!” he cried.

At this the boys all turned again to look at the steamer.

“Declar, if that fellow in the gold hat ain’t a squintin at us through his spy-glass!” cried the captain.

As the boys looked, they saw that the Antelope had become an object of singular attention and interest to those on board of the steamer.  Men were on the forecastle, others on the main deck, the officers were on the quarter-deck, and all were earnestly scrutinizing the Antelope.  One of them was looking at her through his glass.  The Antelope, as she lay at anchor, was now turned with her stern towards the steamer, and her sails flapping idly against the masts.  In a few moments the paddles of the steamer stopped, and at the same instant a gun was fired.

“Highly honored, kind sir,” said Captain Corbet, with a grin.

“What’s the matter?” asked Bart.

“Matter?  Why that thar steamer feels kine o’ interested in us, an that thar gun means, heave to.”

“Are you going to heave to?”

“Nary heave.”

“Why not?”

“Can’t come it no how; cos why, I’m hove to, with the anchor hard and fast, ony they can’t see that we’re anchored.”

Suddenly a cry came over the water from a man on the quarter-deck.