edly
discussed the puzzling situation.

"When do you intend to haul up, `skipper'?" asked Sir Reginald.

"Not yet," answered Mildmay. "Perhaps in about ten minutes' time--
unless anything occurs of a character that would make it desirable to do
so earlier. I want to see a little more of the game first."

"Then there you have it!" exclaimed Lethbridge, as a flash, followed by
a puff of brilliant white smoke, issued from the bows of the pursuing
ship.

A jet of foam leaped up from the surface of the sea, about half a mile
astern of the liner, and dissolved like steam in the dazzling sunshine.
Then the boom of the gun came floating down to the ears of the watchers.

"A four-inch, by the sound of it," remarked Mildmay. "And shotted, too.
Clearly, the fellow is in earnest, whoever he may be. Now, what the
dickens is the explanation of this enigma? And what is the nationality
of the craft?"

"Can't you tell by the build of her?" demanded Lethbridge. "I have
always understood that you sailors had but to look at a ship to tell her
nationality at once; at least that is the impression that one gathers
from the general run of sea novels."

"Yes," answered Mildmay. "But that refers to the old days of wooden
ships. There was a distinctiveness in the model of the wooden ship that
was an almost infallible index to her nationality. But nowadays ships--
and particularly war-ships--are built so much alike in shape that,
except in a few rather extreme cases, it is practically impossible to
identify them. That fellow, yonder, for instance, might be British,
Dutch, German, Austrian, Italian, or Japanese, for all that one can tell
by merely looking at him. Ah, there goes another gun!"

The shot this time struck somewhat nearer, throwing up three successive
jets of water, the last of which appeared to be unpleasantly close to
the stern of the chase.

"The fellow is overhauling her," exclaimed Mildmay. "Now, Elphinstone,
with your permission, I will shift our helm and alter our course
forty-five degrees to the nor'ard."

And, so saying, he entered the pilot-house; and a moment later the
watchers saw the two distant craft swing back along the horizon until
the leading ship bore two points on the _Flying Fish's_ starboard bow.

"If you have no objection, Sir Reginald, I should like a torpedo-shell
put into our bow tube," observed Mildmay, as he emerged from the
pilot-house.

"Certainly," answered Sir Reginald; "I will