Under the vigorous pulling of eight stalwart men, the cutter leaped forward at a speed that would have won an ordinary boat race, and in ten minutes more, the sloop could be distinctly made out, the cutter running across her bow. She was close-hauled, with the wind from the south-west, and very little of it. On board of her were at least ten men, as the quartermaster counted them, and there might have been more in her cuddy under the hail-deck forward. "Boat, ahoy!" shouted a man on the forecastle of the sloop. "On board the sloop!" replied Mr. Pennant, standing up in the stern sheets. "What sloop is that?" "The Magnolia, bound to Appalachicola," replied the spokesman of the craft. "What boat is that?" "The first cutter of the United States steamer Bronx! Heave to, and give an account of yourselves," hailed the officer in command. "Stand by to lay on your oars!" he added in a lower tone to his crew. "Oars!" But the boat seemed to be running too far away from the sloop, though it was near enough for the lieutenant and quartermaster to see that there was a decided commotion on board of her. "Hold water!" added the lieutenant. "Stern all!" The momentum of the cutter was checked, and the boat placed in a convenient position for a further conference with the sloop. Either by intention or carelessness the skipper of the sail-boat had permitted her to broach to, probably because he was giving too much attention to the boat and too little to the sloop. When the cutter lost its headway, it was not more than fifty feet from the sloop. "Hold the sloop as she is, and I will board you," said Mr. Pennant, as he saw the skipper filling away again. "Keep off, or we will fire into you!" shouted the man on the forecastle, who appeared to be the principal man of the party. "See that your pistols and cutlasses are ready for use," said the third lieutenant, in a tone loud enough to be heard by the crew only. "We are all private citizens," added the sloop's spokesman. "No matter what you are; I propose to overhaul you and judge for myself what you are," answered the officer in command of the cutter. "Let go your sheet, skipper!" Instead of obeying the order, the boatman hauled in his sheet, and the sloop began to fill away. Mr. Pennant could form no idea of what the party were. It was possible that they were private citizens, and non-combatants; if they were, they had only to prove they were such by submitting to a further inquiry. "Stand by, my men! Give way together, lively!" shouted the lieutenant as though he intended that those on board of the sloop should hear him as well as his own crew. The cutter darted ahead; but she had not advanced half the distance before the men on board of the sloop fired a volley with muskets at the approaching boat. Mr. Pennant dropped his left arm very suddenly, and the stroke oarsman went down into the bottom of the boat.