A rush of men’s feet—a rattling of ropes and blocks—a steady tramp, tramp, tramp, tramp.
“Bracing up the yards,” said Mr. Triggs, “and altering course to close t’other craft, which has shot clear of us somehow. That shriek haunts me, shipmates, and I’m afraid it meant some deed of infamy.”
There was no doubt that the gunner was quite correct as to the two vessels having in some way swung clear of each other, for we had noticed for some little time that the two hulls were no longer clashing and colliding together.
“Well, I’d give summat to be on deck and to see what’s going forward!” exclaimed Ned impatiently; “and what’s more, I’d like to be striking a blow for those poor chaps what’s in danger of losing their vessel.”
Bump, bump, bump! The two ships were evidently alongside each other once more. We heard shots, the creaking of spars, and the rattling of cordage, but no sounds of conflict.
The fight had evidently been settled the one way or the other.
A few minutes later, the chief, with a look of animal ferocity gleaming from his sombre eyes, came slowly down the ladder. He had a bloodstained bandage around his head, and walked with a limp. Close at his heels stalked his bloodhound, which had evidently lost an ear in the fray.
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE PIRATES’ ISLAND.
What the chief’s intention was in seeking us I do not know, for before he had reached our side of the ship he turned livid, swayed heavily forward, and fell prone upon the deck, evidently in an unconscious state.
“The fellow has fainted from loss of blood,” exclaimed the gunner; “what shall we do?”