"Go ahead a little faster, Mr.Sampson.
We are very near the steamer." The young commander cast his eyes over the deck of his vessel to assure himself that everything was ready for the important moment, though the situation did not indicate that a very sharp battle was to be fought.
Everything was in order, and the first lieutenant was planking the deck, looking as though he felt quite at home, for he was as cool as a Jersey cucumber.

Farther aft was Lillyworth, as uneasy as a caged tiger, for no doubt he realized that the Scotian was to fall a victim to the circumstances that beset her, rather than as the result of a spirited chase or a sharply fought battle.

He looked about him for a moment, and the instant he turned his head, Mulgrum came out from behind the mast, and passed quite near him.
The captain could not tell whether the second lieutenant had spoken to the deaf mute or not, but the latter hastened to the engine hatch, and descended to the engine room.

The Bronx was within less than a cable's length of the Scotian, whose name could now be read on her stern, when Mulgrum, apparently ordered by Lillyworth to do so, had hastened to the engine hatch.

Even on the bridge the noise of a scuffle could be heard in the engine room, and the captain was sure that Sampson had been obedient to his orders.