took no single step to clear the Lady Nepean for action or put his men in lighting trim. The most of them were gathered about the fore-hatch to the total neglect of their guns, which they had been cleaning assiduously all the morning. On we stood without shifting our course by a point, and were within range when the schooner ran up the Stars-and-Stripes and plumped a round shot ahead of us by way of hint.
I stared at Captain Colenso. Could he mean to surrender without one blow? He had exchanged his glass for a speaking-trumpet, and waited, fumbling with it, his face twitching painfully. A cold dishonouring suspicion gripped me. The man was here to betray his flag. I glanced aloft; the British ensign flew at the peak. And as I turned my head I felt rather than saw the flash, heard the shattering din as the puzzled American luffed up and let fly across our bows with a raking broadside. Doubtless she, too, took note of our defiant ensign and leaped at the nearest guess, that we meant to run her aboard.
Now, whether my glance awoke Captain Colenso, or this was left to the all but simultaneous voice of the guns, I know not. But as their smoke rolled between us I saw him drop his trumpet and run with a crazed face to the taffrail, where the hallyards led. The traitor had forgotten to haul down his flag!
It was too late. While he fumbled with the hallyards, a storm of musketry burst and swept the quarter-deck. He flung up both hands, spun round upon his heel, and pitched backwards at the helmsman's feet, and the loosened ensign dropped slowly and fell across him, as if to cover his shame.
Instantly the firing ceased. I stood there between compassion and disgust, willing yet loathing to touch the pitiful corpse, when a woman—Susannah—ran screaming
