"A call to us to heave-to," said Bulger in answer to Desmond’s inquiry. "The unbelievin’ critters thinks that Portuguee rag is all my eye." But the _Good Intent_ was by this time to windward of the vessels, and Captain Barker, standing on the quarter-deck, paid no heed to the signal. After a short interval another puff came from the deck of the grab, and a round shot plunged into the sea a cable’s length from the _Good Intent’s_ bows, the grab at the same time hauling her wind and preparing to alter her course in pursuit. This movement was at once copied by the other three vessels, but being at least half a mile ahead of the grab that had fired, they were a long distance astern when the chase--for chase it was to be--began. Captain Barker watched the grab with the eyes of a lynx. The _Good Intent_ had run out of range while the grab was being put about; but the captain knew very well that the pursuer could sail much closer to the wind than his own vessel, and that his only chance was to beat off the leading boat before the others had time to come up. It required very little at any time to put Captain Barker into a rage, and his demeanour was watched now with different feelings by different members of his crew. Diggle alone appeared unconcerned; he was smiling as he lolled against the mast. "They’ll fire at me, will they?" growled the captain with a curse. "And chase me, will they? By jiminy, they shall sink me before I surrender!" "’Degeneres animos timor arguit,’" quoted Diggle, smiling. "Argue it? I’ll be hanged if I argue it! They’re not King’s ships to take it on ’emselves to stop me on the high seas! If the Company wants to prevent me from honest trading in these waters let ’em go to law, and be hanged to ’em! Talk of arguing! Lawyer’s work. Humph!" "You mistake, Barker. The Roman fellow whose words slipped out of my mouth almost unawares said nothing of arguing. ’Fear is the mark only of base minds:’ so it runs in English, captain; which is as much as to say that Captain Ben Barker is not the man to haul down his colours in a hurry." "You’re right there. Another shot! That’s their argument: well, Ben Barker can talk that way as well as another." He called up the boatswain. Shortly afterwards the order was piped, "Up all hammocks!" The men quickly stowed their bedding, secured it with lashings, and carried it to the appointed places on the quarter-deck, poop, or forecastle. Meanwhile the boatswain and his mates secured the yards; the ship’s carpenter brought up shot plugs for repairing any breaches made under the water-line; and the gunners looked to the cannon and prepared charges for them and the small arms.