“What’s that?” cried the officer, furious.  “I’ll let you know.  I arrest you, and this vessel is seized.”

“Wait a minute, young sir,” cried Captain Corbet; “not quite so fast, ef you please.  You’ll get yourself arrested.  What do you mean by this here?  Do you know who I am?  I, sir, am a subject of Queen Victory.  My home is here.  I’m now on my own natyve shore.  A foreigner, am I?  Let me tell you, sir, that I was born, brung up, nourished, married, an settled in this here province, an I’ve got an infant born here, an I’m not a fisherman, an this ain’t a fishin vessel.  You arrest me ef you dar.  You’ll see who’ll get the wust of it in the long run.  I’d like precious well to get damages—­yea, swingin damages—­out of one of you revenoo fellers.”

The officer looked around again.  It would not do to make a mistake.  Captain Corbet’s words were not without effect.

“Yea!” cried Captain Corbet.  “Yea, naval sir!  I’m a free Nova Scotian as free as a bird.  I cruise about my natyve coasts whar I please.  Who’s to hender?  Seize me if you dar, an it’ll be the dearest job you ever tried.  This here is my own private pleasure yacht.  These are my young friends, natyves, an amatoor fishermen.  Cast your eye down into yonder hold, and see if this here’s a fishin craft.”

The officer looked down, and saw a cooking stove, trunks, and bedding.  He looked around in doubt.

But this scene had lasted long enough.

“O, nonsense!” said Bart, suddenly pulling up his line, and coming forward; “see here—­it’s all right,” said he to the officer.  “We’re not fishermen.  It’s as he says.  We’re only out on a short cruise, you know, for pleasure, and that sort of thing.”

As Bart turned, the others did the same.  Bruce lounged up, dragging his line, followed by Arthur and the others.

“We’re responsible for the schooner,” said Bruce, quietly.  “It’s ours for the time being.  We don’t look like foreign fishermen—­do we?”

The officer looked at the boys, and saw his mistake at once.  He was afraid that he had made himself ridiculous.  The faces and manners of the boys, as they stood confronting him in an easy and self-possessed manner, showed most plainly the absurdity of his position.  Even the mysterious flag became intelligible, when he looked at the faces of those over whom it floated.

“I suppose it’s all right,” he muttered, in a vexed tone, and descended into the boat without another word.

“Sorry to have troubled you, captain,” said Corbet, looking blandly after the officer; “but it wan’t my fault.  I didn’t have charge of that thar injine.”

The officer turned his back without a word, and the men pulled off to the steamer.

The captain looked after the boat in silence for some time.

“I’m sorry,” said he, at length, as he heaved a gentle sigh,—­“I’m sorry that you put in your oars—­I do so like to sass a revonoo officer.”