At the same instant a bright flash showed at her quarter, followed by a sharp explosion. Captain Gomez, in his faded old uniform, trembled with excitement as he raised his glasses to his eyes and scanned the signal. “They want us to heave to,” he announced. CHAPTER XIX. THE SEA FIGHT OFF SANTA ANNA. “Shall we obey the signal?” It was Ned who asked the question, his hand on the engine-room telegraph; for at the minute the _Calvo_ had issued her request--or rather order, backed up as it was by the report of the gun--the Dreadnought Boy had been standing at the instrument. “Yes,” ordered the captain; then, in reply to a questioning look from the others, he added: “They will send a boat, and then we can put into execution a little plan which has just occurred to me.” The necessary replying flags were run up on the _General Barrill’s_ stumpy signal mast. In reply the _Calvo_ steamed closer, and then lowered a boat. As the two vessels lay bobbing on the swell, at a distance of a thousand yards or so from each other, the small craft struck the water, and the next instant was gliding swiftly over it toward the _Barrill_. The early sun glinted brightly on the gold lace of the personages seated in her stern as she approached. “Officers!” exclaimed Stark. “Of course,” rejoined the captain. “They are of the impression that they are on their way to pay a visit to an American vessel.” “Well, if they actually were, they’d get a warm reception,” rejoined the middy. “Firing that gun was the nerviest thing I ever heard of.” “You must recollect, senor,” put in the captain gently, “that the insurgent navy is not versed in naval etiquette.” “It’s time they got a sharp lesson,” sniffed the middy. There was little time for more conversation of any sort. The boat from the _Calvo_, a double-ended whale craft, ranged alongside, and the officers on board her stepped nimbly to the _Barrill’s_ low decks, being aided on board by several sailors. Drawn up in hospitable array to receive them were Midshipman Stark and his companions. None of these could repress slight smiles as they noted the glances of astonishment the visitors bestowed on the dark-visaged crew. Evidently they were puzzling their minds over what such palpable South Americans were doing on board an American ship. The new arrivals, however, bowed politely, although they evidently had a dozen questions quivering on the tips of their tongues. Without giving them time to speak, however, the Americans ushered them aft and below into the leather-upholstered cabin. Up to this time not a sign of Captain Gomez had been seen. Shortly, however, he was to make a dramatic entrance. “You gentlemen will pardon my saying so,” began the officer, who evidently outranked the rest of the visitors, “but I could almost have sworn that this craft was the _General Barrill_ of our--or rather formerly--of our navy.”