By this time the two schooners were not above fifty yards apart, and a hail came in decidedly American tones,-- "I'll send a boat aboard." There was a little movement, and Mark lay waiting for his time, for this action on the part of the stranger was thoroughly playing into his hands. The American's boat was lowered down on the side farthest from them, with the skipper sitting aft with four men to row; and as her head appeared round the stern, Mark dropped over into his own boat. The falls were cast off as she dropped into the water, and bidding the men give way, she shot off round the schooner's bows, the Panama hat gave place to the naval cap, the jacket was hurried on, and away they went for the stranger, whose crew on board stared in astonishment over the bulwarks at the man-of-war's men, while a horrible thought struck the young officer. He was going to seize the stranger vessel, but he had left his own almost unprotected, and the Yankee skipper was being rowed to her. "I'm playing dog and the shadow, after all, Tom," he whispered, excitedly. "What do you mean, sir?" "Suppose the Yankee seizes our prize while we try to take his schooner." "Murder!" exclaimed Tom Fillot, leaping up in the stern-sheets. "I never thought of that." CHAPTER TWENTY SIX. TRADING WITH THE AMERICAN. For a few brief moments Mark was ready to turn back and make sure of his prize, but every stroke was carrying him nearer to the stranger, and in less time than it takes to describe it, he found out that he had alarmed himself with his own bugbear. For the Yankee skipper, apparently taken quite aback at the sight of the armed boat's crew, began by ordering his men to stop, and then turned and had himself rowed back as swiftly as possible, with the result that the boats reached the two sides of the second schooner nearly together. And as Mark scrambled up and over the stern, in spite of the menacing looks of three men at the side, who, however, fell back before Tom Fillot and those who followed, the Yankee master stepped over the bulwarks too, and advanced to meet Mark. "How are yew?" he said, coolly. "Didn't know yew was coming aboard. Can yew trade me a barrel or two o' good whites flour? I'm running rayther short." "Perhaps I can," said Mark, sharply, as he cast an eye over the deck. "What ship's this?" "Ef yew'd looked at her starnboard yew'd hev seen, mister. She's the _Mariar B Peasgood_, o' Charleston, South Carlinar, trading in notions. What's yourn?" "Prize to her Britannic Majesty's ship _Nautilus_." "Prize schooner, eh?" said the American, coolly, gazing over Mark's shoulder at the graceful little vessel. "Wal, I am surprised. I said as she looked a clipper as could sail a few." "Your papers, please." "Eh? Oh, suttunly. Air yew an officer?" "Yes," replied Mark, shortly. "Your papers, please."