Fitz, after a hearty meal, being regularly fagged out, had had three or four hours' rest in his bunk, to get up none the worse for his night's adventure, when he joined Poole, who had just preceded him on deck. He came upon the skipper directly afterwards, who gave him a searching look and a short nod, and said abruptly-- "All right?" "Yes, quite right, thank you, sir." "Hah!" said the skipper, and walked on, taking no notice of Poole, who was coming up, and leaving the lads together. "I say," said Fitz sarcastically, "I can bear a good deal, but your father goes too far." "What do you mean?" asked Poole. "He makes such a dreadful fuss over one, just for doing a trifling thing like that. Almost too much to bear." "Well, he didn't make much fuss over me," said Poole, in rather an ill-used tone. "I felt as if we had done nothing, instead of disabling a man-of-war.--Hullo! what does this mean?" For just then the boat came swiftly round the bend, with the mate sitting in the stern-sheets, the dinghy towed by its painter behind. A shout from the man on the watch astern brought up the skipper and the rest of the crew, including those who had been making up for their last night's labours in their bunks, all expectant of some fresh news; and they were not disappointed, nearly every one hearing it as the boat came alongside and the mate spoke out to the captain on the deck. "Found a way right up to the top of the cliff," he said, "and from there I could regularly look down on the gunboat's deck." "Well?" said the skipper sharply. "No, ill--for them; she's completely fast ashore in the midst of a regular wilderness of rocks that hardly peep above the surface; and as far as I could make out with my spyglass, they are not likely to get off again. They seem to know it too, for when I began to come down they had got three boats manned on the other side, and I left them putting off as if they were coming up here." "Again?" said the skipper thoughtfully. "Yes; to take it out of us, I suppose, for what we've done. How would it be to turn the tables on them and make a counter attack?" "Granting that we should win," said the skipper, "it would mean half our men wounded; perhaps three or four dead. I can't afford that, Burgess." "No," said the mate abruptly. "Better stop here and give them what they seem to want. I think we can do that." "Yes," said the skipper. "All aboard; and look sharp, Burgess. Let's be as ready for them as we can. The fight will be more desperate this time, I'm afraid." "Not you," said the mate, with a chuckle, as he sprang on deck. "Well, my lads, you did wonders last night. How did you like your job?" "Not at all," cried Fitz, laughing. "It was too wet." The mate smiled, and the next minute he was hard at work helping the skipper to prepare to give the Spaniards a warm reception, taking it for granted that it would not be long before they arrived, burning for revenge.