"Up anchor, is it? Yankee trader outside?" was half angrily thrown back at that boat's message. "Ay, ay! we're coming. You may tell Captain Frobisher it isn't any trader. It's one of those Connecticut pirates. We've learned that right here.--All hands away! Up anchor, lieutenant! That old woman has told us what we're going to do." Swiftly indeed the questions and answers were exchanging between the crowded wharf and the thrilling news-bringers on the _Santa Teresa_. Loud and repeated were the cheers for _los Americanos_ and their plucky little cruiser. The British consul at Porto Rico was one of the listeners, and he muttered discontentedly:-- "The rebels will get all the help and information they need. Not an English merchant keel in port or due here would be safe if it weren't for the _Tigress_ and the _Hermione_. Think of it! Six cargoes ready to go out, and they'll all have to run the Yankee gantlet. There may be more than one privateer, you know." Straight to the wharf steered the _Santa Teresa_. No sooner was her gang-plank out than her passengers poured over it to be welcomed after the exuberant Spanish fashion. The _Tigress_, away out at the harbor mouth, was already under way, and the _Hermione_ would soon follow her. There was a change in the state of feeling on board the frigate, however, after the return of the boat from the corvette. "A privateer, they say?" said Captain Frobisher. "That's bad. She beat off a pirate for the Spaniard? What do you make of that, Mackenzie?" "It's easy to read, sir," replied his foxy second in command. "It's as plain as print. The Americans are wiser than we are. They know enough to carry heavy guns. Not many of 'em, I take it, but altogether too much metal for any of these murderous picaroons." "I'm glad they were, my boy," said the captain, heartily. "I hope they sent the devils to the bottom. I'm afraid we're to have trouble with those fellows, my boy. They can't face our cruisers, to be sure, but they may play havoc with our merchant marine. The admiralty must take severe measures with some of them." "We'll try and do that ourselves with this one out yonder," said the lieutenant, but his duties called him away, and he did not explain precisely what was in his angry mind concerning the _Noank_. That very saucy little man-of-war was not trying to look any further into the guarded harbor of Porto Rico. Vine Avery and his crew had returned with their report of danger. They also reported whatever they had learned of the British merchant craft, and Captain Avery had, therefore, several things to think of. "Now, Pedro," he said to the Carib pilot, "what next?" "Run into lagoon to-night," said Pedro. "_Noank_ get through inlet at low water. British ship stick on bar. Schooner come out again when captain say ready. Safe!" "I understand that," said the captain, thoughtfully. "Our draft will let us in. Almost any British man-o'-war would draw too much."