CHAPTER XX.
IN WHICH ONE SPANISH SHIP IS SUNK.
"What is it, Roundstock?"
"What is it?" repeated the old gunner. "We've sighted a Spanish man-o'-war, that's what it is!"
"A man-o'-war!" cried Dan. "Where is she?"
"Dead ahead, and running away as fast as her steam can carry her."
"Can we catch her?"
"Can't say as to that, lad. We hope to do it."
Dan and I waited to hear no more, but, rushing to the stairs, made our way to the spar deck.
It was a cloudy moonlight night and just now too dark to see anything with the naked eye.
But presently the moon came out brightly, and then, far ahead, we made out a dim form, moving along over the ocean like a phantom.
"Is that the Spanish ship?" I asked of a sailor standing near.
"So the officers think, lad."
"Why don't they give her a shot to make her heave to?" asked Dan.
He had scarcely spoken when one of the guns
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