They hastened on shore, gave the alarm; the gunboats, of which there were three at the mole, were ordered out, but half the crew and all the officers were on shore, some at balls, others drinking at taverns or posadas; before they could be collected all three vessels were alongside of the Rebiera; and not aware that anything had been discovered, our hero and his crew were lulled in security. Jack had gone on board, leaving fourteen of his men on board the galliot—Gascoigne had done the same—Mesty still remained on board his vessel; and they were congratulating themselves, and ordering the men on board to the windlass, when they heard the sound of oars.
“Silence!—what is that?” exclaimed Oxbelly. “The gun-boats or row-boats, as sure as I’m alive!”
At this moment Mesty jumped up the side.
“Massa Easy, I hear row-boat not far off.”
“So do we, Mesty. Gascoigne, jump into the boat—tell the men in the prizes to make all sail right out, and leave us to defend their retreat—stay on board of one and divide your men.”
“Dat all right, Massa Easy.—Mr Gascoigne, be smart—and now, sar, cut cable and make sail; no time get up anchor.”
This order was given, but although the men were aloft in a moment, and very expeditious, as the Rebiera payed her head round and the jib was hoisted, they could perceive the boom of the three gun-boats pulling and sailing not five cables’ length from them. Although rather short-handed, topsails, courses, and top-gallant sails were soon set, the men down to their quarters, and the guns cast loose, before the gun-boats were close under their stern. Then Jack rounded to, braced up, and the Rebiera stood across them to the westward.
“Why the devil don’t they fire?” said Jack.
“I tink because they no ab powder,” said Mesty.
Mesty was right—the ammunition chests of the gun-boats were always landed when they were at the mole, in case of accidents, which might arise from the crew being continually with cigars in their mouths, and in the hurry they had quite forgotten to put them on board.