"About ship!" said Gary quietly.
"Hard a lee!" sang out the mate, and as the schooner rushed up into the
wind, Gary, walking to the stern, kissed his hand satirically to the
officers in the boat.
"I've a notion to sink you," he muttered. "One solid shot would do the
business; but perhaps 'twill be best for us to get away, doing as
little damage as possible. It might be safer in case of subsequent
trouble with the authorities."
Close hauled upon her other tack, the schooner was heading diagonally
towards the fog which was just at hand, like a dense, advancing wall.
As they drew away from the boat the cruiser began to fire one gun after
another. Each discharge sent apprehensive thrills through the slaver's
crew. Finally a whole broadside of the warship's upper battery came
shrieking over the water.
CHAPTER XXII.
Trouble of Another Kind.
"That was a close call," exclaimed Rucker, as a shot cut away one of
the jib stays, carrying down the flying jib.
Even as he spoke the film of the fog enveloped them, and though the
sloop of war continued to fire, her shots did no further damage, for
the Wanderer almost immediately lost sight of her pursuer.
Gary then had the course altered to disconcert the aim of the corvette,
which soon after ceased firing.
The breeze that bore the fog with it, was a light one, and as the mist
was liable to rise at any time the captain made the most of his
opportunity by carrying all the sail he could spread.
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