The gun was already loaded, so Dimchurch took a steady aim and applied the match. All leapt upon the bulwarks to see the effect of the shot, and a cheer broke from the crew as it struck the schooner on the bow, about four feet above the water. In return the schooner yawed so as to bring her whole broadside to bear on the cutter, and six tongues of flame flashed from her side. At the same moment L’Agile swung round and fired her two starboard guns. Both ships immediately resumed their former positions, and as they did so Dimchurch fired again, his shot scattering a shower of splinters from almost the same spot as the other had struck.
“You must elevate your gun a little more, Dimchurch,” said Will, “and bring a mast about their ears. Get that sail on board!” he shouted; “I don’t want the schooner to get any nearer.”
The order was executed, and the difference in the speed of the cutter was at once manifest. Again and again Dimchurch fired. Several of the shot went through the schooner’s foresail, but as yet her masts were untouched.
“A little more to the right, Dimchurch.”
This time the sailor was longer than usual in taking aim, but when he fired the schooner’s foremast was seen to topple over, and her head flew up into the wind, thus presenting her stern to the cutter.
“She is a lame duck now,” Will said, “but we may as well take her mainmast out of her too. Fire away, and take as good aim as you did last time.”
Ten more shots were fired, and with the last the pirate’s mainmast went over the side.
“Well done, Dimchurch! Now we have her at our mercy. We will sail backwards and forwards under her stern and rake her with grape. I don’t want to injure her more than is necessary, but I do want to kill as many of the crew as possible; it is better for them to die that way than to be taken to Jamaica to be hanged.”
For an hour the cutter kept at work crossing and recrossing her antagonist’s stern, and each time she poured in a volley from two broadside guns and the long-tom. The stern of the schooner was knocked almost to pieces, and the grape-shot carried death along her decks.
“I am only afraid that they will blow her up,” Will said; “but probably, as they have not done so already, her captain and most of her officers are killed, for it would require a desperado to undertake that job.”