“Well, sir, I expect we’ll have a slant which will enable us to fetch well to windward of the Lizard, at all events, and then, when the tide turns in-shore, we must stand out again.”
“Mr Stubbs, turn the hands up to make sail.”
“Ay, ay, sir,” replied the mate.
The men came on deck, but the captain roared out for the idlers; these were the passengers who had agreed to work during the passage: at last they came up, a queer-looking set, and the captain sending down for his speaking trumpet, sail was made on the ship.
“Why, captain,” said Bramble, “you do it in man-of-war fashion.”
“Well, I’ve not served the King for seven years for nothing,” replied he, “and I hope, sir, not heard the bullets whistling about my head like hail in a hail-storm without knowing how to take care of my ship. I like everything man-of-war fashion, and then one’s always prepared. Where’s the boatswain? Pipe to breakfast.”
“You’ve plenty of hands on board, mate,” said Bramble.
“Yes, plenty of them, such as they are; we’ve twenty of the ship’s company, and twenty-five passengers from Malta.”
After breakfast the captain ordered up the small-arm men; five seamen and fifteen of the passengers made their appearance with their muskets, which were examined, and they were dismissed. At eleven o’clock, as we neared the land, the men were ordered to quarters, the guns cast loose, and they were exercised as on board of a man-of-war, the captain giving his orders with his speaking-trumpet. “Double-shot your guns! Run out! Point your guns! Fire! Repel boarders on the bow! Repel boarders on the quarter!” etcetera. This continued for more than two hours, when the guns were again secured.
“Well, pilot,” said the captain to Bramble, “what do you think? do you fancy a privateer could take us in a hurry?”