Round swept the Dolphin again, and presently we were once more crossing the stern of the lugger, the confusion on board being, as it seemed, greater than ever. We were by this time within a quarter of a mile of our antagonist, and again our broadside, discharged at precisely the right moment, told with terrible effect on board the lugger, not only raking her from stem to stern, but also bringing down her fore and mizzen-masts. And all this time they had not replied to our fire with a single gun.
Standing on for a distance of about a cable’s length, the Dolphin again tacked, this time fetching far enough to windward to have enabled us to cross the lugger’s bows had we desired to do so. Instead of that, however, Captain Winter gave orders to keep away and pass close under her stern, the starboard broadside being all ready to pour into her if need were. Captain Winter’s orders were, however, not to fire until he gave the word. Reaching along on an easy bowline, we were soon on the lugger’s starboard quarter, and within biscuit-toss of the vessel, when the skipper ordered the topsail to be laid aback, and as, with diminished way, we drifted fair athwart the lugger’s stern, in a position admirably adapted for raking her from end to end, he sprang into the starboard main rigging, and hailed in French, asking whether they surrendered. A man, who looked like the captain, standing near the deserted wheel, looked at us intently for a few seconds, and then, observing that we were all ready to give him our starboard broadside, answered in the affirmative; whereupon our people, several of whom had a smattering of French, gave three hearty cheers as they dropped the lanyards of their locks to the deck, and laid down their rammers, sponges, and hand-spikes.
“Take the starboard cutter, Mr Bowen, and ten men, and go on board to take possession,” said the skipper. “Cut away the wreckage as soon as you have secured the crew below, and then send the boat back with a couple of hands, and be ready to receive a tow-line from us. We shall have to take you in tow, as I see that the Indiaman is now on a wind; and I have no fancy for leaving either her or you to make your way into port unprotected. As soon as you are fast to us, set your men to work to get up jury-masts, if you find that there are any spars aboard suitable for the purpose. There is a fine breeze blowing now, and if we have luck we ought to get into harbour to-night, prizes and all.”
“Ay, ay, sir,” answered I. “The carpenter had better come with us, had he not? I expect we shall want his help in rigging our jury-masts.”
“Yes, certainly,” assented the skipper; “take him by all means.”
“Thank you, sir,” said I as I turned away. “Now then,” I continued, “ten of you into the starboard cutter, lads, as quick as you like. And take your cutlasses and pistols with you. Come along, Chips, my man; get your tools, and tumble them into the boat.”
Ten minutes later we were on board the lugger, which proved to be the Belle Jeannette, of Saint Malo, and a very fine craft she was, as we saw, when we stood upon her broad, roomy deck. She mounted nine guns, eight of them being long sixes, while the ninth was the long nine-pounder between the fore and mainmast. I was astonished to see what havoc our shot had wrought, the deck and bulwarks being broadly streaked and splashed with blood, while each gun had its own little group of two or three killed and wounded lying about it. All three of her masts had been shot away, as already stated; and, in addition to this, her stern transom was regularly torn to pieces, one of the jagged and splintered holes being quite large enough for me to have passed through it had I been so minded. Three spokes of the wheel had been shot away, and it was a wonder to me, as I marked the path of our shot along the torn and splintered deck, that the whole concern had not been destroyed. The companion was badly damaged and started; and as for the cabin skylight, there was very little of it left.
The crew—the few of them who could still stand, that is to say—had thrown down their arms and gone forward on to the forecastle upon hearing their skipper state that he surrendered, and there we found them when we boarded our prize. The skipper himself—a rather fine-looking man, some thirty-five years of age, with piercing black eyes, curly black hair and beard, and large gold ear-rings in his ears—had, of course, remained aft; and when I sprang over the bulwarks, in on deck, he advanced toward me, and handing me his sheathed sword, remarked rather bitterly:
“Accept my sword, monsieur, and with it my congratulations upon your good fortune in having secured two such valuable prizes. The Indiaman herself is not to be despised, but I was a fool not to let her go when I saw that her capture was inevitable. I believe we could have escaped you had we hauled our wind when we first made you out; but, as it is, I have lost not only my prize but also my ship and the chest of specie which we took the precaution of removing from the Indiaman last night. You are certain to find it, as it is lying beneath the table in my cabin, so I may as well make a virtue of necessity and tell you of it at once. Perhaps, under the circumstances, monsieur will be generous enough to be content with the treasure, and allow me to retain my lugger, which represents all that I possess in the world?”
“And thus restore to you the power to inflict further injury upon our commerce? I am afraid not, monsieur,” answered I. “Had you been a mere harmless trader, it might possibly have been different; but, as it is, the proposal is—pardon me for saying so—preposterous.”