“The smaller will be the privateer, and, therefore, in all probability the faster vessel of the two, Mr Adair,” said the skipper. “We will accordingly tackle him first; for I think we can polish him off in time to catch the other fellow before he can get into port. Beat to quarters, if you please, sir, and show our colours.”
The first lieutenant gave the order, the drum rattled out its summons, and the ship at once became a hive of activity; the decks were cleared of everything that could possibly interfere with the efficient working of the guns; the guns themselves were cast loose, the half-ports knocked out, screens put up, the magazine opened, powder and shot passed up on deck, cutlasses and pistols served out to the crew, and, in short, every preparation made for battle. Our ensign was streaming out in the breeze, as flat as a board, from the mizen peak, but neither of the strangers had thus far condescended to show us the colour of their bunting. They had now definitely parted company, the larger of the two edging in for the land with the evident intention of reaching a port, while the other, having hauled her wind, was as evidently preparing to cover the retreat of her prize by engaging us in a running fight and drawing us off-shore to the northward.
Chapter Two.
The Privateer and her Prize.
The smaller of the two craft, having hauled close to the wind, upon the same tack as ourselves, and about two miles dead to windward of us, now hoisted French colours, and fired a gun of defiance, the shot from which, however, fell a long way short of us. We did not attempt to reply to this challenge, for although our long 24-pounders would probably have reached the other ship, the skipper considered the distance too great for our fire to be effective, while the motion of the frigate was so violent that the chances were against our being able to make a hit at all, and Captain Vavassour was noted for the strength of his objection to the wasteful firing away of ammunition. For the moment, therefore, he contented himself with testing the respective speed and weatherliness of the two ships.
We very soon discovered that, so far as these two qualities were concerned, we had caught a Tartar; for although within the first ten minutes of the test it became apparent that we were head-reaching upon the craft to windward, our advantage was so slight that we could scarcely hope to get within effective range of her in less than two hours at least, while during the whole of that time the bigger of the two strangers would be proceeding in the opposite direction at such a rate as would render her ultimate escape a practical certainty.
The skipper looked long and anxiously, first at one craft, then at the other, and finally at the barometer; then he rejoined the first lieutenant, who was giving his attention almost exclusively to the chase to windward.
“This won’t do at all, Mr Adair,” he said. “That fellow is going through the water almost as fast as we are, and is holding as good a luff. At this rate we shall not get to grips with him before dark, which will probably mean losing the big fellow, if not both of them. I see that the barometer is inclined to rise; we will, therefore, shake the reef out of the topsails, and set the fore and main-topgallant sails. If it becomes a question of ‘carrying-on,’ I think we ought to have the best of it by a long way.”