ake down that
English flag and run up our Jolly Roger. It will be necessary, for if
the fellows fear not our long guns, they may change their course and get
away from us."

"That will be right," said Kate; "if we're going to be pirates, we might
as well be pirates out and out."

Captain Ichabod glowed with delight. "What a girl this was, and what an
uncle!"

It was not long, for the Restless had a fair wind, before the sail to
the eastward came fully into sight. She was, in good truth, a
merchantman, and not a large one. Dame Charter, very much excited,
wondered what she would have on board.

"The cook tells me," said she to Kate, "that sometimes ships from the
other side of the ocean carry the most astonishing and beautiful
things."

"But we shall not see these things," said Kate, "even if that ship
carries them. We shall take but food, and shall not unnecessarily
despoil them of that. We may be pirates, but we shall not be wicked."

"It is hard to see the difference," said Dame Charter, with a sigh, "but
we must eat. The cook tells me that they have made peaceful prizes
before now. This they do when they want some particular thing, such as
food or money, and care not for the trouble of stripping the ship,
putting all on board to death, and then setting her on fire. The cook
never does any boarding himself, so he says, but he stands on the deck
here, armed with his great axe, which likes him better than a cutlass,
and no matter what happens, he defends his kitchen."

"From his looks," said Kate, "I should imagine him to be the fiercest
fighter among them all."

"But that is not so," said Dame Charter; "he tells me that he is of a
very peaceable mind and would never engage in any broils or fights if he
could help it. Look! look!" she cried, "they're running out their long
brass guns; and do you see that other ship, how her sails are fluttering
in the wind? And there, that little spot at the top of her mast; that's
her flag, and it is coming down! Down, down it comes, and I must run to
the cook and ask him what will happen next."

CHAPTER XXXI

MR. DELAPLAINE LEADS A BOARDING PARTY

Steadily southward sailed the brig Black Swan which bore upon its decks
the happy Mander family and our poor friend Dickory, carrying with him
his lifelong destiny in the shape of the blood-stained letter from
Captain Vince.

The sackcloth draperies of Lucilla, with the red cord lightly tied about
them, had given plac