Save for a call now and again to warn us that the helm was down, to put about, she steered in silence.

And she steered admirably.
We had opened the lights of Cawsand and were heading in towards it on the port tack when, as O.P.

smoked and chatted and I watched the spark of the Eddystone growing and dying, her voice reached us, low but distinct.
"There's a boat coming.

Get below, boy!" Sure enough as I scrambled for the hatchway in a flutter, someone hailed us out of the darkness.
"Ahoy, there!" "Ahoy!" O.P.called back, after a moment, into the darkness.
"What's your name ?" "The _Glad Tidings_, of Looe, and thither bound.

Who be you ?" "Water-guard.