pon the chart which included
Khrysoko Bay, called Pifanio on some maps, and studied intently for a
considerable time. It was clear to all on deck that he had something in
his head, and it was believed that he was preparing to meet the boastful
threats of Captain Mazagan.

"Well, my darling, what is to be the next scene in the comedy?" asked
Felix, as he seated himself by Louis in the bow.

"I don't know, Felix; but whatever it may be, Captain Scott is evidently
getting ready to play his part in it," replied Louis, still watching the
captain through the open front windows of the pilot-house.

"They are making the steam sizzle below, and I suppose the captain has
ordered this to be done. By the powers of mud! Do you mind that?"
exclaimed the Milesian, pointing to the Fatime.

"What of her?"

"Don't you see that she has a gun run out on her port side? She had just
thrown open the port when I spoke," replied Felix.

"Then the pirate spoke the truth for once," added Louis.

"He said the vessel had been armed with two twelve-pounders, and we have
not even one. I suppose she has the other on the starboard side. If she
had half a dozen of those playthings she might do something."

"She may do a deal of mischief with two of them if they are well
handled," suggested Louis.

"She can't use but one of them at once, and she will have to come
entirely about before she can do anything with the other. Her
top-gallant forecastle isn't big enough for them, as the
Guardian-Mother's is for hers. I am not much scared yet, my darling."

"Neither am I, Flix; but I think this is about the tightest place we
have been in since we came across the Atlantic."

"Captain Scott will arrange the affair all right. If I were a
sporting-man, I would bet on him yet," protested Felix.

"But while we are not scared, you know that it is possible for one of
those guns to put a shot through our boiler, rip out the engine, or tear
a big hole in the plates of the Maud," added Louis.

"We can plug the shot-holes--I believe that is what they call it."

"We have not a single one of the old man-of-war's-men of the
Guardian-Mother on board who can tell us what to do in case of
accident."

"But we won't croak, whatever else we do. If we are to be sent to the
bottom of this bay, we will go down with the best grace possible," added
Felix, who was certainly in as good humor as ever he was, in spite of
the brass gun that protruded at the side of the Fatim