“Pass the word for the drummer!” he cried.
While his command was being fulfilled, he quitted the quarter-deck, and ascended to the forecastle. Then, looking right ahead, he distinguished the galleon, scarcely a gun-shot in his front, and on the point of veering to windward. From the purposed change in her course, he was satisfied that, like him, she had suddenly become aware of the proximity of an enemy, and was seeking to avoid him. All prospect of surprise, therefore, was at an end, and he returned to the quarter-deck with the determination of steering straight alongside of her.
On the quarter-deck, by the side of the capstan, he found Halyard and the drummer.
“Beat to quarters!” he said, to the latter.
The drummer obeyed; and while his spirit-stirring summons rolled through the ship, Hildebrand laid his hand on Halyard’s arm, and drew him aside.
“Man the three boats,” he said. “I will run straight for the galleon, and, as we come alongside, drop you all astern. When I think ye are fairly on your way, I will give the enemy a broadside, and, in the confusion, do you board her, all with one mind, on her nearer quarter. I will thereafter lend thee what succour I can.”
“A right noble project!” observed Halyard, feeling his pockets with both his hands. “How many men shall I muster, Sir?”
“Forty!” answered Hildebrand, “which, as thou knowest, is half the crew. Now,” he added, in a deeper tone, as he grasped Halyard by the hand, “give thee farewell!”
Halyard did not reply on the instant. His pause, however—only that the crisis rendered the briefest pause perceptible—was hardly apparent, albeit, when he did speak, his voice was somewhat shaken.