There was none.

The frigate held on her course, silent as death.
_III .-- The Frigate._ The two English captains stood on the quarterdeck, side by side, the tall man and the dwarf.

Beyond issuing an order or two, neither had spoken a word for twenty minutes.

Once Captain Barker glanced over his shoulder to see how the merchantmen were faring, and calculated that within half an hour their enemies would intercept them.

Then he looked down on his men, who stood ready by the guns, motionless, with lips set, repressing the fury of battle; and beyond them to the galley as she came, churning the sea, her oars rising and falling like the strong wings of a bird.
"My God!" he said softly, "if only Tristram were here to see!" _IV--The Galleys._ When the frigate failed to answer his salute, M.de la Pailletine jumped to a fresh conclusion.
"_Mordieu!_" he cried, "here is another English captain who, like our friend Salt, is weary of carrying his Sovereign's colours.
He doesn't mean to strike a blow.