“He will not be moved by any of the devices of lawful and ordinary warfare,” said Wilder, when he witnessed the indifference with which their challenge had been received.

“Then try him with a shot.”

A gun was now discharged from the side next the still receding “Dolphin.”  The iron messenger was seen bounding along the surface of the sea, skipping lightly from wave to wave, until it cast a little cloud of spray upon the very deck of their enemy, as it boomed harmlessly past her hull.  Another, and yet another, followed, without in any manner extracting signal or notice from the Rover.

“How’s this!” exclaimed the disappointed Bignall.  “Has he a charm for his ship, that all our shot sweep by him in rain!  Master Fid, can you do nothing for the credit of honest people, and the honour of a pennant?  Let us hear from your old favourite; in times past she used to speak to better purpose.”

“Ay, ay, sir,” returned the accommodating Richard who, in the sudden turns of his fortune, found himself in authority over a much-loved and long-cherished piece.  “I christened the gun after Mistress Whiffle, your Honour, for the same reason, that they both can do their own talking.  Now, stand aside, my lads, and let clattering Kate have a whisper in the discourse.”

Richard, who had coolly taken his sight, while speaking, now deliberately applied the match with his own hand, and, with a philosophy that was sufficiently to be commended in a mercenary, sent what he boldly pronounced to be “a thorough straight-goer” across the water, in the direction of his recent associates.  The usual moments of suspense succeeded and then the torn fragments, which were seen scattered in the air, announced that the shot had passed through the nettings of the “Dolphin.”  The effect on the vessel of the Rover was instantaneous, and nearly magical.  A long stripe of cream-coloured canvas, which had been artfully extended, from her stem to her stern, in a line with her guns, disappeared as suddenly as a bird would shut its wings, leaving in its place a broad blood-red belt, which was bristled with the armament of the ship.  At the same time, an ensign of a similar ominous colour, rose from her poop, and, fluttering darkly and fiercely for a moment, it became fixed at the end of the gaff.

“Now I know him for the knave that he is!” cried the excited Bignall; “and, see! he has thrown away his false paint, and shows the well-known bloody side, from which he gets his name.  Stand to your guns, my men! the pirate is getting earnest.”

He was still speaking, when a sheet of bright flame glanced from out that streak of red which was so well adapted to work upon the superstitious awe of the common mariners, and was followed by the simultaneous explosion of nearly a dozen wide-mouthed pieces of artillery.  The startling change, from inattention and indifference, to this act of bold and decided hostility, produced a strong effect on the boldest