“Yes, sir, I perfectly understands,” answered the boatswain. “I knows exactly what you wants, Mr Grenvile, and I’ve got the very man for the job. I’ll see to it, sir.” And he took the tiller rope out of the hands of the man who was steering, giving him instructions to “send Bill Bateman aft.”
I found young Keene in high feather at the prospect of a tussle with so formidable an opponent as the brigantine promised to be, and we dispatched our breakfast in double-quick time, after which my lighthearted companion got out his pistols and proceeded to clean and load them carefully in anticipation of the moment when they might be needed. And when this was done he went forward to supervise personally the sharpening of his sword by the armourer. Meanwhile I took my sextant on deck, and had another squint through it at the chase. It was satisfactory to find that we were overhauling her rapidly. Then, having secured an observation of the sun for the determination of our longitude, I gave orders to clear for action, an operation which, in the case of so small a hooker as the Francesca, was a very simple matter. We had just completed all our preparations comfortably when Jones called my attention to the fact that the commodore was in stays, and presently she was round on the other tack and heading well up for us. But so far had we gained on her that, when at length we crossed her hawse, there was quite two miles of clear water between us. I commented upon this singular fact to Jones, remembering that when we parted company with the Shark the Doña Inez was distinctly the better sailer of the two, while now we were beating her in her own weather.
“It’s not very difficult to understand, sir,” answered Jones. “The fact is that then we didn’t know this here little beauty, and how to get the best out of her, while now we does. That’s all that there is about it.”
And, as I could not otherwise understand the phenomenon, I was obliged to accept that explanation, and be satisfied with it.
Six bells arrived, by which time the commodore was once more in our wake, having tacked again, while we had clawed out about half a mile to windward of the chase, and drawn so close to her that I determined to try the effect of another shot from the long eighteen upon her. The gun was accordingly reloaded, carefully trained, and the schooner luffed sufficiently to bring the gun to bear clear of our head gear. At the proper moment the gunner, who was squinting along the sights, gave the order to fire. The linstock was applied, the gun exploded, shaking the little vessel to her keel, and as the helm was put up to keep her away again, all eyes were strained to note the effect of the shot. It struck the water fair and true close astern of the chase, but without doing any damage, so far as we could see. But it was soon apparent that it had fallen too close to her to be pleasant, for the next moment her fore-rigging was alive with men, who swarmed up on to her yards as she put her helm up and kept away upon a south-westerly course, with the wind well over her port quarter. And that her skipper was a taut hand, who kept his men well up to the mark, was immediately afterwards evidenced by the wonderful man-o’-war-like rapidity with which they rigged out their studding-sail booms, and set a whole cloud of studding-sails on their port side.
“Up helm and keep her away!” I shouted as I saw what the brigantine was at. “Away aloft there and out booms—get the larboard stu’n’sails upon her as quick as you please, lads. Steady as you go,” to the man at the helm. “How’s her head?”
“Sou’-west and by west, half west, sir,” answered the man.
“Keep her at that,” said I. The course which we were then steering was about half a point higher than that of the brigantine, and by following this I hoped to drop into her wake again in due time without losing any ground.
We were now once more running off the wind, and the quick, jerky motions of the schooner had given place to a series of long, easy, buoyant, floating movements, much more conducive to accurate shooting than those which had preceded them. I therefore resolved to try the effect of at least one more shot from the long gun, especially as it became apparent that the brig had at last found herself upon her best point of sailing, and was gradually creeping up to us, while I was anxious to have to myself the honour and glory of bringing the brigantine to action without the assistance of the commodore. I therefore gave orders to reload the forecastle gun, and to aim high, with the object of disabling the chase aloft, and so clipping her wings. The gun was accordingly made ready and, at the proper moment, fired, the gunner waiting until a surge had swept under the little vessel and she was just settling into the trough in the rear of it, with her stern down in the hollow and her bows pointing skyward. Again came the flash, the jarring concussion, the jet of white smoke; and a moment later young Keene, who, in his excitement, had scrambled half-way up the fore-rigging, to note the effect of the shot better, gave a cheer of exultation.
“Hurrah!” he yelled; “bravo, Thompson! well shot—clean through his topsail, and a near shave of clipping the topmast out of her.”