"Ay, ay, sir!" answered Thompson, and I saw him stoop behind the gun, directing the gun's crew with his hands as he squinted along the sights of the weapon.  Another second or two, as the schooner rose over the back of a swell, he fired.  The aim was a splendid one, but the elevation was scarcely sufficient, for the shot struck the craft's weather bulwarks fair between the masts, making the splinters fly.