Captain Rhines had frequently availed himself of his knowledge as pilot, well knew his worth and reliability, and therefore insisted upon his going with Arthur Brown. No other person on board could speak a word of French, except Walter Griffin, and he not fluently, as he had learned it but a short time before, but was daily improving by conversation with Peterson.
There was now a signal from the foremast, Ned Gates reporting that he heard blows as of a hammer on iron; and while all hands were anxiously listening, the sound of a boatswain’s whistle was faintly audible.
“Man the sweeps,” cried the captain, running to the compass to note the quarter from which the sound came. Taking the helm himself, while the whole ship’s company applied their force to the sweeps, he steered in a direction opposite to that from which the sound that had so alarmed them proceeded. An hour thus passed without any repetition of the sounds, when the fog suddenly lifted, the sun broke out, and they found themselves almost within range of an English frigate on the port bow, while a sloop of war lay some miles off on the other quarter. The crew redoubled their efforts at the oars.
“It’s no use, boys,” said the mate; “you might as well put on your jackets; the frigate is getting out her boats; they’ll be alongside of us before we can sweep half a mile.”
“Sweep away, men,” cried the young captain, who was coolly watching the clouds; “something may yet turn up in our favor.”
The man-o’-war’s-men, well aware of the character of the chase by the efforts put forth to escape, and anticipating a rich prize, strained every nerve, coming down upon their helpless victim with the speed of an arrow. The sound of the oars in the rowlocks could now be distinctly heard as the two leading boats diverged, one making for the fore and the other for the main chains of the “Arthur.”
An expression of bitter anguish passed over the face of Arthur, as he felt that all his fair prospects, the hopes of Captain Rhines and others who had so nobly stepped forth to aid and start him in life, were to be blighted in the bud.
The boats were now close aboard, and the bowmen stood up to grapple the prize.
“Pull, men, for your lives!” shouted the captain, whose eye caught the sails; “there’s a breeze coming; her length, only her length ahead.”