Shot after shot was now exchanged between the ships with little effect; the Xyphias all the while gradually drawing nearer the Sea Scourge, and the chase growing more exciting.
At length a lucky shot from the Xyphias struck the enemy’s mizzen mast, just above the mizzen top, and down came the wreck.
Cheers upon cheers went up from the crew of the Xyphias.
Yells of defiance answered them from the decks of the enemy.
Lieutenant Ethel again leveled his glass at the chase.
The Sea Scourge still minded her helm, as her spanker and crotchet were still standing and drawing. The wreck of her mizzen mast was promptly cleared away. And she doggedly answered gun for gun, shot for shot, though the Xyphias was now gaining rapidly upon her, and her case was well-nigh hopeless.
At last a shot from the Xyphias struck the taffrail of the enemy, close by the wheel, scattering the splinters in every direction. One struck the helmsman, driven to his very heart. In his death agony and delirium he clutched the spokes of the wheel with the grasp that could not be loosened, and he slowly sank windward to the deck, turning the wheel with him. The Sea Scourge, in obedience to her helm, rounded sharply to the wind.
Seeing his ship broaching to, the captain of the Sea Scourge ran aft, yelling:
“What d’ye mean by that, you —— sea cook? Luff! Luff!”
There came no response from the helmsman; and indeed in the same instant that he ceased speaking the captain perceived that the man was past hearing. He reached the helm too late. The ship was already taken aback and lying directly across the course of the Xyphias, and not two cables’ length from her. He gave the helm to a seaman near, and, springing upon the poop deck, yelled forth the order: