Such were the cogitations of Seymour, when midnight was reported, and Jerry was summoned to relieve the deck—which he did not do, relying upon our hero’s good-nature, until past one bell. Up he came with his ready apology—“I really beg your pardon, my dear fellow, but I had not a wink of sleep last night.”
“Never mind, Jerry, I am not at all sleepy. I had been thinking about these French prisoners—I cannot get their conversation out of my head.”
“Why, I did not like it myself, when I heard of it,” replied Jerry. “I hope they won’t attempt it in my watch; it would not give them much trouble to launch me over the quarter—I should skim away, ‘flying light,’ like a lady’s bonnet.”
“What would you do, Jerry, if you perceived them rushing aft to retake the vessel?” inquired Seymour, who was aware of his ready invention.
“Skim up the rigging like a lamplighter, to be sure. Not that it would be of much use, if they gained the day—except say a few prayers before I went astern.”
“Well, that was my idea; but I thought that if one had a musket and ammunition up there, a diversion might created in favour of those below—for the prisoners have no firearms.”
“Very true,” replied Jerry; “we might puzzle them not a little.”
“Now, Jerry, suppose we were to take that precaution, for I do not like their manoeuvres during my watch. It will do harm, if it does no good. Suppose you fetch two muskets and cartouch-boxes from the cabin—I’ll take one and secure it in the fore-cross-trees, and you do the same at the main: for Courtenay is too proud to keep an armed watch.”
Jerry agreed to the proposal, and brought up the muskets and ammunition. Seymour gave him a stout fox to lash the musket; and taking another himself, they both ascended the rigging at the same time, and were busy securing the muskets up and down at the head of the lower masts, when they heard a sudden rush upon deck beneath them.
It was dark, though not so dark but they could distinguish what was going on, and they perceived that their thoughts had but anticipated the reality. “The French are up!” roared the man at the wheel, to rouse those below, as well as the watch, who were lying about the decks; but, to the astonishment of the youngsters aloft, as well as of the men on deck, not six, but about twenty Frenchmen, armed with cutlasses, made their appearance. The hatches were over and secured in a minute; and the unarmed English on deck were then attacked by the superior force. It was with agonised feelings that Seymour and Jerry heard the scuffle which took place; it was short; and plunge after plunge into the water, alongside, announced the death of each separate victim. The man at the wheel struggled long—he was of an athletic frame—but, overpowered by numbers, he was launched over the taffrail. The French, supposing that the remainder of the crew were below, placed sentries over the hatches, that they might not be forced, and then collected together abaft, altering the course of the vessel for St. Domingo.