"Look, there goes her colours, and she'll send a shot across the _Shark's_ bows directly.

We shall get it next." He had hardly spoken before there was a white puff of smoke from the cutter, and before the report came echoing from the towering rocks of the Crag the boys saw the water splash up twice from somewhere near the schooner's bows, while within half a minute another shot was fired across the lugger's course, as she glided slowly along with the swift current, which was drawing them nearer the Crag.
"Bad job for us as old Daygo arn't here," said the cook.
"Why ?" asked Vince.
The man laughed.
"Why, if he were aboard and the wind came up, he'd run the _Marie_ in among the rocks." "And into the pool ?" said Vince eagerly.
"Not likely, my lad.

No, he'd manoeuvre her right in, and lead the revenoos after us, till the cutter was stuck on one of the fang rocks, and leave her there, perhaps for good.

Bound to say the skipper wishes Master Daygo was here." Vince looked round, and thought of the fierce currents and sunken rocks, which a sailing boat might pass over in safety, but which would be fatal to a vessel of the cutter's size.
Just then the cook laughed, and the boys looked at him inquiringly.
"They think we are lying to on account o' their guns," said the man; "but only wait till we ketch the wind." "Do you think they know these vessels are--" "Smugglers ?" said the cook, for Vince had not finished the sentence.
"Ay, they know fast enough, and they think they're in luck, and have dropped upon a strong dose of prize money; but they don't know old Jarks." "Will he fight ?" said Mike excitedly.

"Is these pokers getting red-hot ?" said the man, grinning.