"Oh yes, you will," said the skipper quietly. "If I didn't think you would I should try to do it myself. Now then, there's no time to waste. Look yonder. There's something coming out of the port now--a steamer, I believe, from the way she moves, and most likely it's in reply to our signals, and they're coming out to give us a surprise." The mate stood for a few moments peering over the black waters in the direction of the indicated lights. "Yes," he growled, "that's a steamer; one of their gunboats, I should say, and they are coming straight for here." "How does he know that?" whispered Fitz, as the skipper and the mate now moved away. "The lights were some distance apart," replied Poole, "and they've swung round till one's close behind the other. Now look, whatever the steamer is she is coming straight for here. Fortunately there is a nice pleasant breeze, but I hope we shall not get upon any of these fang-like rocks." "Yes, I hope so too," said Fitz excitedly; and then Poole left him, and he stood listening to the clicking of the capstan as the anchor was raised, while some of the crew busily hoisted sail, so that in a few minutes' time the schooner began to heel over from the pressure of the wind and glide away, showing that the anchor was clear of the soft ooze in which it had lain. CHAPTER NINETEEN. TICKLISH. Burgess the mate went forward, to stand for a few minutes looking into the offing, before going back aft to say a word or two to the man at the wheel, as the schooner was now gliding rapidly on, and then walked sharply to where the skipper was giving orders to the men, which resulted in a big gaff sail being run up, to balloon out and increase the schooner's rate of speed through the water. A short consultation ensued, another man was put on the look-out forward, and the mate went back to take the wheel himself. "Ah, that's better," said Poole quietly. "What's better?" asked Fitz. "Old Burgess taking the wheel himself. It's a bad enough place here in the daylight, but it's awful in the darkness, and we are not quite so likely to be carried by some current crash on to a rock." "Then why, in the name of common-sense, don't we lay-to till daylight?" "Because it wouldn't be common-sense to wait till that steamer comes gliding up, and takes possession of the _Teal_. Do you know what that means?" "Yes; you would all be made prisoners, and I should be free," cried Fitz, laughing. "My word, Master Poole, I don't want you to have a topper first, but I'd let you see then what it is to be a prisoner aboard the _Silver Teal_." "Oh yes, of course, I know," replied Poole mockingly. "But you don't know everything. When I asked you if you knew what it meant it was this, that our cargo would go into the wrong hands and about ruin Don Ramon's cause." "Well, what does that matter?"