“Very true,” replied Jack, “supposing that you have an overpowering force, or they are not prepared; but recollect, that if they are, the case is altered; for instance, as to fire-arms—they fire theirs at the first boat, and they have not time to reload, when the second comes up with its fire reserved; every fresh boat arriving adds to the courage of those who have boarded, and to the alarm of those who defend; the men come on fresh and fresh. Depend upon it, Gascoigne, there is nothing like a corps de reserve.”
“Will you keep silence in your boat, Mr Easy, or will you not?” cried the master; “you’re a disgrace to the service, sir.”
“Thank ye, sir,” replied Jack, in a low tone. “I’ve another bite, Ned.”
Jack and his comrade continued to fish in silence till the day broke. The mist rolled off the stagnant water, and discovered the brig, who, as soon as she perceived the boats, threw out the French tricolour and fired a gun of defiance. Mr Smallsole was undecided; the gun fired was not a heavy one, and so Mr Jolliffe remarked; the men, as usual, anxious for the attack, asserted the same, and Mr Smallsole, afraid of retreating from the enemy, and being afterwards despised by the ship’s company, ordered the boats to weigh their grapnels.
“Stop a moment, my lads,” said Jack to his men, “I’ve got a bite.” The men laughed at Jack’s taking it so easy, but he was their pet; and they did stop for him to pull up his fish, intending to pull up to the other boats and recover their loss of a few seconds.
“I’ve hooked him now,” said Jack; “you may up with the grapnel while I up with the fish.” But this delay gave the other boats a start of a dozen strokes of their oars, which was a distance not easy to be regained.
“They will be aboard before us, sir,” said the coxswain.
“Never mind that,” replied Jack; “some one must be last.”
“But not the boat I am in,” replied Gascoigne; “if I could help it.”
“I tell you,” replied Jack, “we shall be the corps de reserve, and have the honour of turning the scale in our favour.”