Chapter Twelve.
An exciting chase.
Now arose the question: What has become of the chase; had we simply lost sight of her in the growing obscurity, and was she still steering the same course as when last seen, or had her captain availed himself of that obscurity to put in practice some trick in order to give us the slip?
I brought the telescope to bear upon the Doña Inez, in the hope of gathering from her actions some clue as to whether or not she still held the chase in view; she was carrying on, holding to her original course, and the inference to be drawn from this was that those aboard could still see the stranger. But, even as I looked, a string of lanterns soared up to her peak, from which position they were hidden from the chase by the intervention of the brig’s head-sails, and when the signal was at length complete I found, as I had quite expected, that it was a question as to whether we still held the stranger in view. This signal I answered in the negative, by means of a whip from the lee lower yard-arm, keeping the lanterns quite low, in the hope that they would thus escape the observation of the chase, and I then got a second signal from the commodore, which read:
“Steer as at present for one hour, then, failing further orders, haul wind to north-east.”
This signal I acknowledged in like manner as the first, and, while doing so, saw that the brig had taken in her studding-sails and hauled her wind. I noted the time, and found it to be close upon seven o’clock. Half an hour later, while Keene and I were below at dinner, the faint boom of a distant gun came floating down the open skylight to our ears, and Simpson, who had charge of the deck, poked his head down through the opening to make the report:
“Commodore signalling again, sir!”
Snatching the signal book from the locker upon which it had been thrown, I dashed upon deck, and presently, by the light of the binnacle lamps, deciphered the signal as follows:
“Tack to south-east.”
“Right!” said I, “answer it. In studding-sails, Mr Simpson, and then heave about on the port tack. Keep your eye on the commodore, and also keep a bright look-out to windward for any sign of the chase.”
By the time that I got below again, and was once more seated at table, the schooner was in stays, and immediately afterwards the long, easy, floating and gliding movement of a vessel running off the wind was exchanged for the quick, violent, jerking plunge and heavy lee lurches of the same craft driven under a heavy pressure of canvas into a high and steep head-sea. Ten minutes later I was again on deck.
“I was just thinkin’, sir, of takin’ in the to’garns’l,” remarked Simpson as I joined him on the weather side of our tiny quarter-deck, where he was engaged in a futile endeavour to avoid the heavy showers of spray that were now flying over our weather bow and as far aft as the mainmast. “She’s got a good deal more than she can comfortably carry, and there’s nothin’ to be gained by whippin’ the sticks out of her. I believe she’d travel quite as fast, and a good deal easier, if that to’garns’l was stowed, sir.”
“Any sign of the chase yet, Mr Simpson?” said I.
“No, sir, not when I looked last, there wasn’t,” answered the carpenter. “The mischief of it is that there’s no knowin’ where to look for her, and it’s as much as a man can do to make out the commodore in this murk.”
“Where is the commodore?” demanded I.
“Out there, dead to wind’ard of us, and about four mile away,” answered Simpson. “Better take in the to’garns’l, hadn’t we, sir?” he continued, cocking his eye aloft to where in the dim light the spar could be faintly seen whipping and buckling like a fishing rod at every mad plunge and heave of the sorely-overdriven little vessel. That she was being overdriven was perfectly evident, not only from the tremendous quantity of water that she was shipping forward at every furious dive into the head-sea, but from the steep angle of her decks, which sloped at an inclination of fully forty-five degrees with every lee roll, and from the cataracts of green water that poured in over her lee rail upon every such occasion; her decks, indeed, to leeward were so flooded that no man could have passed along them to leeward without imminent risk of being washed overboard.
“Yes,” said I at last, “clew up your topgallant-sail, Mr Simpson, and the topsail also while you are about it. You are right, the ship is being over pressed, and I believe that what we may lose by taking the square canvas off her will be more than made up to us by our gain in weatherliness. She will look up nearly a point higher under her fore-and-aft canvas only, and go along very nearly as fast.”
Simpson needed no second bidding. He thought as I did on the matter, and the result proved us correct, for while there was no perceptible diminution in the schooner’s speed due to the loss of her square canvas, she looked higher and went along much more easily and comfortably than she had done before, “Now for a look at the commodore,” said I, when we had snugged down the little vessel, and I took the telescope from the beckets in which it hung in the companion way.
Yes, there she was, dead to windward of us, driving along, as I could just make out, under her main topgallant-sail; but all was perfectly dark on board her, and there was no sign of the slaver that I could see. But I presumed that they had her in sight from the brig, or we should have heard something from the latter. For it was at this time very dark, and blowing strong, and the conditions generally were such that the matter of as little as even two or three miles might make all the difference between seeing and not seeing the stranger.
Eight bells came, the watch was called. Jones, the boatswain, relieved Simpson, and the latter, bidding me good-night, went below. I explained to Jones our reasons for taking the square canvas off the ship, and he was graciously pleased to express his approval.
“Yes, sir,” he said, “I believe you’ve done the right thing. Even now the little hooker have got all that she can comfortably carry, and if you was to pile more on to her you’d do no good, but only strain her all to pieces, and open her seams. The fact is, Mr Grenvile, that these here shallow, beamy craft ain’t intended to sail on their sides; bury ’em below their sheer-strake and they begins to drag and to sag at once. We’re doin’ quite as well as can be reasonably expected in such a sea as this, as is proved by the way that we’re keepin’ pace with the commodore. I’ll just take his bearin’s, for the fun of the thing, and see how much he head-reaches on us durin’ the next hour.” Saying which he trotted aft to the binnacle and very carefully took the bearings of the brig, which we both made to be exactly east-south-east.
The hour sped, with no sight or sign of the chase to cheer us, and then Jones and I went to the binnacle to take the bearings of the Doña Inez once more. The boatswain was a long time getting the bearing to his satisfaction, for the little vessel was leaping and plunging most furiously, and the compass-card was none too steady in the bowl; but at length he stepped back from the binnacle with an air of triumph, exclaiming:
“There, Mr Grenvile, what d’ye make of that, sir?”
Whereupon I, in turn, stepped up to the binnacle, and with equal care took the bearing.
“I make it east and by south, half south,” said I.
“And east and by south, half south it is!” answered Jones exultantly. “Which means, sir, that we’ve head-reached on the brig to the extent of half a p’int within this last hour, and that, too, in a breeze and a sea so heavy that the brig ought to walk away from us hand over hand. Well, I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it myself; but seein’ is believin’, I have heard say. And more than that,” he continued, taking up the glass and levelling it at the Doña Inez, “I’m blest if I don’t believe as we’re weatherin’ on her too. Take this glass, Mr Grenvile, and tell me whether you don’t think as we’ve drawed up a bit closer to the commodore since eight bells struck.”
To humour the fellow I took the telescope, as requested, and certainly when I got the brig focused in the lens her image appeared to be more distinct and also perceptibly larger than it had been when I last looked at her.
The hours sped on without change of any sort, except that when at length midnight arrived there was no longer any room to doubt that, since we had taken in our square canvas, and thus relieved the overdriven little hooker, we had steadily, if somewhat slowly, head-reached and weathered upon the commodore; and then, as there seemed to be no prospect of any further news from our consort that night, I went below and turned in, leaving instructions that I was to be called at once, without fail, should anything occur to render necessary my presence on deck, or should the commodore exhibit any further signals. In less than five minutes I was fast asleep.
I was awakened next morning by the loud knocking of the steward at my state-room door.
“Six bells, Mistah Grenvile, sah; and here is your coffee,” announced San Domingo, as he stood balancing the cup and saucer in his hand and swaying to the still lively movements of the schooner, although it struck me at once that she was not nearly so lively in her motions as she had been when I turned in at midnight. I raised myself in my bunk and peered through the closed scuttle that was let into the side of the ship. The little craft was still lying over far enough to cause the sea to wash up over the glass and obscure the view occasionally, but there were nevertheless intervals of quite long enough duration to enable me to note that the morning was overcast and lowering, with a decided thundery look in the sky, and that the sea had gone down very considerably while I had been lying asleep.
“Well, San Domingo,” I said, “are there any signs of the chase? And where is the commodore?”
“De chase, sah, am about four mile to wind’ard ob us, bearin’ about half a point abaft de beam, and de commodore am ’bout a mile and a half astern of us.”
“Astern of us—the commodore astern of us, did you say?” exclaimed I incredulously.
“Yes, sah,” answered the black, quite unmoved, “dead astern ob us. We hab both weadered and head-reached on him durin’ de night.”
“Has he made any signals since I came below?” asked I.
“Not dat I am aware ob,” answered the fellow. “But, if massa wish, I will go on deck and ask Mistah Simpson.”
“No, never mind,” said I. “No doubt Mr Simpson would have called me had such been the case. What canvas are we under?”
“All plain sail, to de royal, sah.”
“Very well, that will do,” said I, taking the cup and draining it. “Find me my bath towel, San Domingo, and then you may go.”
A minute later I was on deck, still in my sleeping rig, and looking about me. The weather was pretty much as I had judged it to be from the glimpse that I had caught through my state-room port. As San Domingo had said, the Doña Inez was about a mile and a half so dead astern of us that her two masts were in one, while, in the precise position which the negro had indicated, there lay a fine, spanking brigantine thrashing along under a perfect cloud of canvas to her royal, which, by the way, appeared to have as much hoist, and nearly as much canvas on it, as our topsail.
“Nothing to report, sir,” said Simpson, coming up to me as I emerged from the companion. “We made out the chase about two bells this morning; but I did not call you, sir, as she showed no signs of shiftin’ her helm. And the commodore haven’t said a word all night. I reckon he’ll be a bit surprised when he sees where we are.”
“To tell you the truth, Simpson, I am ‘a bit surprised’ myself,” said I. “She is a wonderful little craft to have beaten the Inez as she has done, and that, too, in a strong breeze.” And, turning away, I went forward and took my usual salt-water bath.
“Now,” I meditated, as I took up a position beneath the spout of the head-pump, and signed to the man in charge to get to work, “the rule in chasing when one is abreast, but to the leeward of the chase, is to tack. I don’t like to tack without instructions from my superior officer, because I don’t know what his plans may be, and he may have some scheme of his own for the circumventing of our friend yonder; but if I do not hear anything from him by the time that I am ready to go below and dress I will just take the small liberty of asking for instructions. For of course the brigantine is quite aware by this time that the brig and we are running in couples, therefore there need be no further squeamishness on my part as to an interchange of signals between the brig and myself.”
My douche at an end, I walked aft again, and, pausing at the head of the companion ladder, said to Simpson:
“Mr Simpson, be good enough to get out the flags and—”
The carpenter was balancing himself upon the dancing deck as I spoke, with the telescope at his eye, looking at the brig, and I had got so far in my speech when he interrupted me with the exclamation:
“Signal from the commodore, sir!”
“What is it?” I asked.
He read out the flags to me, and I said:
“All right! acknowledge it.” And I dived below into my cabin, where I at once turned up the signal in the code book. It consisted of the one word “Tack!”
Hastily closing the book again, I dashed up the companion ladder and shouted to Simpson:
“Mr Simpson, ’bout ship at once, if you please. And when you are round upon the other tack, and have coiled down, let the men clear away the long gun on the forecastle and get up a few rounds of ammunition. We may perhaps get a chance to have a slap at that fellow a little later.”
“Ay, ay, sir! Hands ’bout ship!” roared Simpson. And as I descended again to my state-room to dress, I heard him give the order to “down helm”. The next moment the little hooker rose to an even keel, with a terrific slatting of canvas and whipping of relaxed sheets as she came head to wind; then, after a vicious plunge or two, head-on, into the long seas, she paid off on the opposite tack and heeled over to port. The shivering and slatting of the canvas, with the accompanying tremor of the hull, ceased, and the long, easy, floating plunges and soarings were resumed as she again settled easily into her stride.
“Long gun all ready, sir,” reported Simpson when at length I stepped out on deck fully dressed. “Shall we try a shot?”
“Too far off,” said I; “we should not get anywhere near her. Still, yes, you may waste a charge just by way of letting the fellow understand that we are in earnest. Give the muzzle a good elevation, and so aim that he may see that we want to pitch a shot across his forefoot. And at the same time let him see the colour of our bunting.”
The shot was accordingly fired and our ensign hoisted; but, so far as the former was concerned, we might as well have saved our powder, for the ball, although very well aimed, fell a long way short. But it had the effect of causing her to show her colours, which proved to be French. We fired no more, for there was nothing to be gained by wasting ammunition, and it was quite clear that the stranger had no intention of heaving-to until absolutely compelled to do so. We held on, therefore, uneventfully, until we were fairly in the brigantine’s wake, and then tacked again, without waiting for orders from the commodore. It was by this time eight o’clock; the watch was called, the boatswain came aft to relieve Simpson, and San Domingo appeared, with the announcement that breakfast was ready. Before going below, however, I ordered young Keene to bring up my sextant, with which I very carefully measured the angle between the brigantine’s main-topmast head and the top of her transom. When I had secured this I clamped the instrument and laid it aside for reference later. Then I instructed Jones to pick out the best helmsman he could find in his watch and send him aft to the tiller, explaining my reason for so doing.
“After our performance of last night,” said I, “I think we need have no fear as to our ability to overhaul that brigantine. But I want to do more than that; I want not only to overhaul her, but also to eat out to windward of her, so cutting off her escape in that direction. And, to accomplish this, and thus bring her the sooner to action, if she means to fight, we must have a thoroughly good man at the tiller, one who will let her go along clean full, yet at the same time coax and humour the little barkie every inch to windward that he can.”
“Yes, sir, I perfectly understands,” answered the boatswain. “I knows exactly what you wants, Mr Grenvile, and I’ve got the very man for the job. I’ll see to it, sir.” And he took the tiller rope out of the hands of the man who was steering, giving him instructions to “send Bill Bateman aft.”
I found young Keene in high feather at the prospect of a tussle with so formidable an opponent as the brigantine promised to be, and we dispatched our breakfast in double-quick time, after which my lighthearted companion got out his pistols and proceeded to clean and load them carefully in anticipation of the moment when they might be needed. And when this was done he went forward to supervise personally the sharpening of his sword by the armourer. Meanwhile I took my sextant on deck, and had another squint through it at the chase. It was satisfactory to find that we were overhauling her rapidly. Then, having secured an observation of the sun for the determination of our longitude, I gave orders to clear for action, an operation which, in the case of so small a hooker as the Francesca, was a very simple matter. We had just completed all our preparations comfortably when Jones called my attention to the fact that the commodore was in stays, and presently she was round on the other tack and heading well up for us. But so far had we gained on her that, when at length we crossed her hawse, there was quite two miles of clear water between us. I commented upon this singular fact to Jones, remembering that when we parted company with the Shark the Doña Inez was distinctly the better sailer of the two, while now we were beating her in her own weather.
“It’s not very difficult to understand, sir,” answered Jones. “The fact is that then we didn’t know this here little beauty, and how to get the best out of her, while now we does. That’s all that there is about it.”
And, as I could not otherwise understand the phenomenon, I was obliged to accept that explanation, and be satisfied with it.
Six bells arrived, by which time the commodore was once more in our wake, having tacked again, while we had clawed out about half a mile to windward of the chase, and drawn so close to her that I determined to try the effect of another shot from the long eighteen upon her. The gun was accordingly reloaded, carefully trained, and the schooner luffed sufficiently to bring the gun to bear clear of our head gear. At the proper moment the gunner, who was squinting along the sights, gave the order to fire. The linstock was applied, the gun exploded, shaking the little vessel to her keel, and as the helm was put up to keep her away again, all eyes were strained to note the effect of the shot. It struck the water fair and true close astern of the chase, but without doing any damage, so far as we could see. But it was soon apparent that it had fallen too close to her to be pleasant, for the next moment her fore-rigging was alive with men, who swarmed up on to her yards as she put her helm up and kept away upon a south-westerly course, with the wind well over her port quarter. And that her skipper was a taut hand, who kept his men well up to the mark, was immediately afterwards evidenced by the wonderful man-o’-war-like rapidity with which they rigged out their studding-sail booms, and set a whole cloud of studding-sails on their port side.
“Up helm and keep her away!” I shouted as I saw what the brigantine was at. “Away aloft there and out booms—get the larboard stu’n’sails upon her as quick as you please, lads. Steady as you go,” to the man at the helm. “How’s her head?”
“Sou’-west and by west, half west, sir,” answered the man.
“Keep her at that,” said I. The course which we were then steering was about half a point higher than that of the brigantine, and by following this I hoped to drop into her wake again in due time without losing any ground.
We were now once more running off the wind, and the quick, jerky motions of the schooner had given place to a series of long, easy, buoyant, floating movements, much more conducive to accurate shooting than those which had preceded them. I therefore resolved to try the effect of at least one more shot from the long gun, especially as it became apparent that the brig had at last found herself upon her best point of sailing, and was gradually creeping up to us, while I was anxious to have to myself the honour and glory of bringing the brigantine to action without the assistance of the commodore. I therefore gave orders to reload the forecastle gun, and to aim high, with the object of disabling the chase aloft, and so clipping her wings. The gun was accordingly made ready and, at the proper moment, fired, the gunner waiting until a surge had swept under the little vessel and she was just settling into the trough in the rear of it, with her stern down in the hollow and her bows pointing skyward. Again came the flash, the jarring concussion, the jet of white smoke; and a moment later young Keene, who, in his excitement, had scrambled half-way up the fore-rigging, to note the effect of the shot better, gave a cheer of exultation.
“Hurrah!” he yelled; “bravo, Thompson! well shot—clean through his topsail, and a near shave of clipping the topmast out of her.”
We presently fired again, this time cutting the royal stunsail sheet and setting the sail violently flapping, with the result that it had to be taken in before the sheet could be spliced. But we were not to be allowed to have matters all our own way very much longer, for while we were reloading the long gun a jet of flame, followed by a puff of white smoke, like a little wad of white cotton wool, suddenly leaped from the brigantine’s stern port, and a 9-pound shot came whistling overhead, neatly bringing down our fore topgallant-mast, with all attached, on its way. We were now in a very pretty pickle, forward, for it was our wings that were clipped, much more effectually than we had clipped those of the chase; and now, too, the commodore came romping up to us, hand over hand. We were, however, not yet beaten, by a long way, and while a good strong gang was at once sent aloft to clear away the wreck, we on deck kept up a brisk and persistent fire upon the chase with our long gun. But whether it was that Thompson’s hand had lost its cunning, or that the flapping and banging of the wreckage overhead disconcerted him and spoiled his aim, certain it is that we made no more hits just then.
By the time that our wreckage had been cleared away, and everything made snug aloft once more, the commodore had forged ahead of us, and had begun to open fire, the brigantine returning his fire briskly from one stern port while she peppered us from the other. And presently a further misfortune, and this time a very serious one, overtook us, it happening that we both fired at the same instant, and while our shot clipped off the brigantine’s topmast-studding-sail boom like a carrot, close in by the boom-iron, his shot passed through our topsail, so severely wounding the topmast on its way that, before anything could be done to save the spar, it snapped short off about half-way up its length; and there we were again, hampered with a further lot of wreckage to clear away.
Meanwhile the commodore, profiting by the damage that we had inflicted upon the brigantine, rapidly overhauled her. The two craft maintained a brisk fire upon each other until, the Doña Inez having ranged up alongside the chase, they both took in their studding-sails and went at it, hammer and tongs, broadside to broadside. This continued until, the brig’s fore-topmast having been shot away, she broached-to and ran foul of the brigantine, to which she promptly made herself fast by means of her grappling irons. And the next moment the cessation of the gun fire, the flashing of cutlass blades in the sun, and the popping of pistols told us that the boarders were at work.
“Avast there with the long gun!” I cried. “Boarders, stand by! Mr Keene, have the goodness to take charge. Stand by your halyards, men, and be ready to settle away everything, fore and aft, as we range alongside. Stand by also with your grappling irons. Mr Keene, we will range up on the brigantine’s port side.”
“Oh, Dick, you might let me go with you, old chap; I’ve got my sword sharpened and my pistols ready expressly for the purpose of boarding!” pleaded Jack.
“Can’t possibly, my dear boy,” answered I. “Somebody must look after the schooner, and you’re that somebody; so please say no more about it. Now, lads,” I continued, “we must make short work of this business; for if these craft lie alongside each other for ten minutes, in this sea, they will grind each other to pieces, and we shall all go to the bottom together. So strike, and strike hard, the moment that you find yourselves on the enemy’s decks. Mr Jones, tell off six men to remain in the schooner with Mr Keene.”
Five minutes later and we were within half a cable’s-length of the brigantine, on the decks of
which a fierce and stubborn conflict was still raging; and it appeared to me that the commodore and his party were finding all their work cut out to avoid being driven back on the deck of their own ship.
“Settle away fore and aft,” I cried. “Main and fore halyards, peak and throat; jib halyards, let go; man your downhauls; and then muster in the waist, starboard side. Steady, Jack, starboard you may; steady, so. Now stand by your grapnels—heave! Hurrah lads, follow me, and take care that none of you drop between the two hulls!”
The next instant we were all leaping and scrambling, pell-mell, in over the bulwarks of the brigantine and leaping down on her decks, which were already slippery with blood and cumbered with killed and wounded. Fortunately, by boarding on the brigantine’s port side, as we did, we took her crew in their rear, which so greatly disconcerted them—while our appearance imparted fresh courage to the commodore’s party—that after vainly striving to stand against us for nearly a minute, some flung down their weapons and cried for quarter, while the remainder made a clean bolt of it forward and darted down the fore scuttle, which we promptly closed upon them.