“It appears,” said he, addressing his lieutenant, “that we are going to have a scene of a masked ball. Order Arthur to bring us a few flags, and let us prove to this unknown, that the Indienne has several disguises at her disposal. And then, Mr. Walter, give orders that cutlasses and boarding pikes be distributed, for we can hardly expect, in these seas, to meet with any but enemy’s ships.” The two orders were executed; as soon as given. In an instant the young midshipman had brought on deck a dozen flags of different nations, and Lieutenant Walter, having had the arm chest opened, had boarding pikes piled in different positions throughout the ship, and had distributed cutlasses and axes to the ship’s company, he then returned to his place by the Captain’s side. Every man again resumed his post by instinct rather than by order, for they had not yet beat to quarters; so that the apparent confusion which had existed for a moment ceased at once, and the frigate became once more, as it were, silent and attentive. However, the two ships following their converging directions, continued to approach each other. When they were about the distance of three gun shots, “Mr. Walter,” said the Captain, “I think it is time we should begin to mistify our good friend here. Let us show him the old Scotch flag.” The lieutenant gave a sign to the quartermaster, and the red Lion of Scotland, on a blue field, rose like a flame to the peak of the _Indienne_; but nothing on board the enemy’s ship gave evidence of their paying the slightest attention to this manouvre. “Yes, yes,” murmured the captain, “the three leopards of England have so well filed the teeth and pared the claws of the Scottish lion, that they pay no attention to him, believing that he is tamed because he is defenceless. Show him some other color, Mr. Walter, and perhaps we shall succeed in loosening his tongue.” “What flag shall I hoist, captain?” “Take the first one that comes; chance may perhaps favor us.” This order was scarcely given, when the Scotch flag was hauled down, and that of Sardinia took its place. The ship still remained mute. “Well, well,” said the captain, jestingly, “it appears that His Majesty, King George, is on good terms with his brother of Cyprus and Jerusalem. Do not let us bring them to loggerheads by carrying our joke farther, Mr. Walter, let us show the American flag, and prove that it is really the right one, by firing an unshotted gun.” The same manouvre was repeated. The Sardinian flag was hauled down, and the stars of the United States rose slowly towards the sky, and were certified by firing a gun.