“A second and a third flash, followed by two reports, came almost together, but this time they fell short of us, and passed away in our wake.
“We cut away the fallen rigging, and seeing nothing for it, now, but to look to our own safety, we resolved to run the vessel up the bay, and try if we could not manage to conceal some portions of the cargo, before the man-o’-war could overtake us. The caves along the shore were all well known to us, every one of them had served either as a store, or a place of concealment. The wind, however, freshened every minute; the storm jib was all we could carry, and this, instead of aiding, dipped us heavily by the head, while the large ship gained momentarily on us, and now, her tall masts and white sails lowered close in our wake.
“‘Shall we stave these puncheons?’ said the mate in a whisper to the skipper; ‘she’ll be aboard of us in no time.’
“The old man made no reply, but his eyes turned from the man-o’-war to shore, and back again, and his mouth quivered slightly.
“‘They’d better get the hatches open, and heave over that tobacco,’ said the mate, endeavouring to obtain an answer.
“‘She’s hauled down her signal for us to lie to,’ observed the skipper, ‘and see there, her bow ports are open—here it comes.’
“A bright flash burst out as he spoke, and one blended report was heard, as the shots skimmed the sea beside us.
“‘Run that long gun aft,’ cried the old fellow, as his eyes flashed and his colour mounted. ‘I’ll rake their after-deek for them, or I’m mistaken.
“For the first time the command was not obeyed at once. The men looked at each other in hesitation, and as if not determined what part to take.
“‘What do you stare at there,’ cried he in a voice of passion, ‘O’Kelly, up with the old bunting, and let them see who they’ve got to deal with.’