They scrambled up just as the fire of grape-shot opened. And then Tristram made an appalling discovery.
The hole through which their oar was worked had been split wider by the crash; and now, looking out, he saw that it lay just opposite the mouth of an English cannon. In this position they had been brought up by the frigate's grappling-irons.
It took him but an instant to see also that the cannon, as it stared him in the face, was loaded.
The two vessels, moreover, lay so close that by reaching up with his hand he could have laid his hand on its muzzle.
It was a horrible moment. There were four Frenchmen and a Turk ranged along the bench beside him. He looked into their faces. They were ashen grey to the lips. No one could move to get out of the way: the chains prevented that. The Huguenot was praying wildly. Only the Turk preserved his composure, and even he had turned pale under his bronze skin.
Somebody cried: "Lie flat!"
In a second every one of Tristram's companions had flung himself flat on the bench. Tristram glanced again at the gun. Even at that moment he had enough presence of mind to note that it was pointed downwards, and at such an angle that those who lay flat must infallibly receive all its contents. He noted this even while it seemed that every one of his faculties was frozen up. He felt that he could move neither hand nor foot; and somehow he knew that since, because of the chain, he could not leave the bench, he must sit upright. And so he stiffened his back, laid his hands on his lap, and waited with his eyes on the gun.
Through the port-hole he could see the English gunner. He saw the fuse in his hand. He counted the seconds; wondered, even, how the fellow could be so deliberate. He heard the explosions all around, and speculated. Would the next be his turn? Or the next? Would it be painful? What was the next world like? And would his body be badly mangled?
The gunner had the match ready, when the lad's lips moved and a cry broke from them—a cry which astonished him as he uttered it, for he had no notion that his brain was busy with such matters.
"O! my Father, have pity on my poor soul! I have loved all men and one woman. Give comfort to her, and have mercy on my poor soul!"