“Call the gunner—clear away the long gun forward—try with the rammer whether the shot has started from the cartridge, and then fire across the bows of that vessel.”
The men cast loose the gun, and the gunner taking out the bed and coin, to obtain the greatest elevation to counteract the heel of the frigate, watched the lurch, and pitched the shot close to the forefoot of the disabled vessel, who immediately showed French colours over her weather-quarter.
“French colours, sir!” cried two or three at a breath.
“Beat to quarters, Mr Hardy,” said Captain M—.
“Shall we cast loose the main-deck guns?”
“No, no—that will be useless; we shall not be able to fire them, and we may have them through the sides. We’ll try her with the carronades.”
It was easy to perceive, without the assistance of a glass, that the men on board the French line-of-battle ship were attempting, in no very scientific manner, to get a jury-mast up abaft, that, by putting after-sail on her, they might keep their vessel to the wind. The foresail they dared not take off, as, without any sail to keep her steady, the remaining mast would in all probability have rolled over the side; but without after-sail, the ship would not keep to the wind, and the consequence was, that she was two points off the wind, forging fast through the water, notwithstanding that the helm was hard a-lee.
“Where are we now, Mr Pearce?” interrogated the captain—“about eight or nine leagues from the land?”
“Say seven leagues, sir, if you please,” replied the master, “until I can give you an exact answer,” and he descended the companion ladder to work up his reckoning.
“She’s leaving us, Mr Hardy—keep more away, and run abreast of her. Now, my lads, watch the weather roll,—round and grape—don’t throw a shot away—aim at the quarter-deck ports. If we can prevent her from getting up her jury-masts, she is done for.”