Then his lips became motionless, his gaze fixed on the golden glory in the heavens, and I started wildly to my feet, for at that moment there was a tremendous roar. The heavily-charged cannon had been fired, and I knew that the enemy were close at hand.
I gave one glance at Miss Denning, who knelt there now, crouching low, with her face buried in her hands, and then ran on deck ready to help repel the attack.
For there were the two boats close into the port-gangway, and the men in them frantically gesticulating and waving their hands.
“Don’t—don’t fire,” one of the men yelled. “We give in.”
“Yes, yes; give in,” came in a wild chorus.
“The beggars surrender, sir,” cried Bob Hampton, who was on his knees re-charging the cannon. “But get that there poker ready again, Neb. We’ll hit ’em next time if they don’t.”
“Ahoy!” cried Mr Brymer, through a speaking-trumpet. “One boat come forward; but if there is any treachery, we’ll show no mercy to any one there.”
“Treachery?” shouted a man pitifully, as the first boat was slowly rowed in. “We’re all spent, sir. There arn’t a drop o’ water. Give us all a drink first, and then shoot us if you like.”
“Where’s Jarette?”
“Here, in the bottom, sir, tied neck and heels. He went stark mad last night, and bit and fought till we had to tie him down under the thwarts.”