"Be good enough to stop your engines at once, sir, and send a message to your captain that his presence is required on the bridge. I have an important communication to make to him. And, for your own sake, you will do well to say nothing about opening fire upon us; for, as you may see for yourself, our machine-gun is already trained to sweep your decks, while a single torpedo would suffice to blow you out of the water. I beg to assure you that resistance is quite useless; you are absolutely at our mercy, and you will therefore be well advised to yield prompt obedience to our request!" The Russian stood staring with mingled fury and bewilderment for a few seconds; and then, having apparently arrived at the conclusion that discretion would perhaps in this case prove the better part of valour, he laid his hand upon the engine-room telegraph apparatus. A tinkling of bells in the ship's interior was distinctly heard by those aboard the _Flying Fish_, and presently the churning of water about the convict-ship's rudder suddenly ceased, showing that her engines had been stopped. At the same moment the officer on her bridge called a sailor to him, and, with a few brief words, undistinguishable to those in the _Flying Fish's_ pilot-house, dispatched him to the interior of the vessel. It is probable that the skipper of the _Ludwig Gadd_ had already been awakened by the hailing that had passed between the two craft, for in less than five minutes he emerged from the cabin under the poop, and, making his way forward, leisurely ascended to the bridge, where he was at once accosted by the officer in charge. He listened gravely to this individual's communication, glancing with much curiosity meanwhile at the strange glittering shape that floated quietly close alongside, and then, striding to the starboard extremity of the narrow structure upon which he stood, he hailed, in true nautical fashion-- "Ship ahoy! What ship is that?" "Are you the captain of the _Ludwig Gadd_?" hailed back the professor, ignoring the previous question. "Ay, ay," answered the skipper, waving his hand impatiently. "Who are you, and what do you want?" "You have on board your ship a certain Colonel Sziszkinski, who is being transported as a convict. Is it not so?" answered the professor. "How do you suppose _I_ should know?" yelled back the skipper, savagely. "I know nothing whatever about the convicts aboard here. If your business has to do with any of them, you had better see the officer who is going out in charge of them." "Of course," commented Mildmay, when this had been translated to him. "I ought to have thought of that. Ask him to send for the fellow to come up on to the bridge."