Kit ran for his bridge. Halfway across it, he heard a crack, and looked back.
He could not see the French skipper; but what he could see made his heart sick.
Boats, crammed to the teeth, were putting away from the Coquette. Black and scurrying, they tore across the water towards him, like rats racing for blood.
CHAPTER XII
BOARDERS
I
Kit rushed madly aft.
"Here they come, sir!" he screamed.
Old Ding-dong sat propped on his corpse, shaving a quid of tobacco.
"Who come?"