Читать книгу The Captain from Connecticut онлайн

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"Pass the word to the starboard guns to stand by."

A faint hail came from the brig.

"Ship ahoy! What ship's that?"

Peabody nudged O'Brien, but there was no need. The Irishman's tongue was ready enough.

"His Britannic Majesty's frigate Calypso. Heave to!"

There was a moment's delay, while the Delaware still fore-reached upon the brig. If the chase were American, she would open fire.

"Heave to, and wait for my boat!" hailed O'Brien.

These seconds were precious. There was no chance of escape for the brig now; in a few more seconds they could overwhelm her perhaps without firing a shot. The brig had not opened fire, and it was clear she was not American. Peabody was certain, as it was, that she was a Post Office packet; he recognised the cut of those sails. But at any second she would recognise in her turn the Delaware for what she was, by her clipper bows and raking masts and spar deck. There were no other ships at sea like the big American frigates. Peabody nudged O'Brien again.

"Heave to, damn your eyes!" yelled O'Brien into the speaking trumpet.