"Look, look!" the captain shouted. "Hurrah, lads!" and a cloud of white canvas fell over, to leeward of the lugger.
Her two masts were nearly in line, and the shot that had narrowly missed the foremast, and passed through the foresail, had struck the mainmast and brought it, and its sail, overboard. The crew of the brig raised a general cheer. A minute before a French prison had stared them in the face, and now they were free. The helm was instantly put up, and the brig bore straight away from her pursuer.
"What do you say, Probert? Shall we turn the tables, now, and give her a pounding?"
"I should like to, sir, nothing better; but it would be dangerous work. Directly she gets free of that hamper, she will be under command, and will be able to bring her broadside to play on us; and if she had luck, and knocked away one of our spars, she would turn the tables upon us. Besides, even if we made her strike her colours, we could never take her into port. Strong handed as she is, we should not dare to send a prize crew on board."
"You are right, Probert--though it does seem a pity to let her go scot free, when we have got her almost at our mercy."
"Not quite, sir. Look there."
The lugger had managed to bring her head sufficiently up into the wind for her broadside guns to bear, and the shot came hurtling overhead. The yard of the main-topsail was cut in sunder, and the peak halliard of the spanker severed, and the peak came down with a run. They could hear a faint cheer come across the water from the lugger.
"Leave the guns, lads, and repair damages!" the captain shouted.
"Throw off the throat halliards of the spanker, get her down, and send a hand up to reef a fresh rope through the blocks, Mr. Probert.
"Joe, take eight men with you, and stow away the topsail. Send the broken yard down.