As he thought, his hand gripped the hilt of his sword more tightly, and he whispered an order to the men:
“Close round.”
The crew eagerly pressed up to him, and he spoke.
“We’ve got to wipe out a disgrace, my lads—hush! don’t cheer, let them think we are doing nothing.”
“Ay, ay, sir,” came in a low growl.
“I say, my lads, we’ve got to wipe out a disgrace, and the sooner the better. One hour ought to be enough to get on deck and drive these scoundrels either overboard or below. Then I think there’ll be some prize-money to be earned, for they are sure to be running a cargo to-night. Silence! No cheering. Now then, to work. Waters, how are we to get up the hatch?”
“Powder, sir,” said the gunner laconically.
“And blow ourselves to pieces.”
“No, sir, I think I can build up a pile of hammocks and fire half-a-dozen cartridges atop of it, and blow the hatch off without hurting us much below.”
“Try it,” said Hilary shortly. “You marines, come aft into the cabin and we’ll get the ventilators open; you can fire through there.”