But a very few minutes sufficed to prove the correctness of my judgment as to their uselessness under the present circumstances, a very distinct confusion of movement among the shining blades revealing—what I had foreseen—that her canvas was driving her too fast through the water for her oarsmen to keep pace with her. The confusion rapidly became more pronounced, until every individual oar-blade was rising and falling independently of all the others, while frequent pauses of movement, accompanied by a great splashing of water, revealed that the unhappy oarsmen were busily engaged in the unseamanlike operation of “catching crabs”. As a matter of fact, her sweeps were proving to be a hindrance rather than a help to her, and we began to overhaul her so fast that we were soon within point-blank range of her. Tom Hardy had assumed charge of our Long Tom, and he had gradually worked himself up into such an uncontrollable condition of fidgety impatience, running his eye along the sights and then glancing round at me, that it seemed cruel to keep him thus any longer on the tenter-hooks of suspense, and I, rather reluctantly, nodded permission to him to fire. The next instant the gun spoke out, the shock of its discharge jarring the schooner to her keel, and the shot flew high over the mast-heads of the galley and a little wide of her.
“I expected as much, Tom,” remarked I reprovingly. “You are far too much excited. Take it coolly, man; take it coolly. That galley must be effectually disabled, or she will give us the slip to windward and bring two or three more like herself after us, which I have no desire at all to see. And I have no desire to take her, for she would be worse than useless to us, she would be a really dangerous possession. Ah! I expected as much; down comes her canvas; she is going to try to dodge us and work out to windward in the wind’s eye! Never mind the gun just now; in with the stunsails, for your lives, or she will be too quick for us!”
What I feared and expected had come to pass. Our heavy shot had fairly frightened the people aboard the galley; they realised at last that a trick had been played upon them, and her commander’s great anxiety now evidently was to get as quickly as possible out of the trap that he had been decoyed into. And, with this object, he had suddenly lowered his sails and put his helm hard over, with the object of returning by the way that he had come. But we were to windward of the galley, and, our stunsails coming in with a run, we were able to haul close upon a wind almost as quickly as the galley, when—the latter now depending upon her oars alone—the schooner proved to be considerably the faster of the two, thus effectually cutting off our antagonist’s escape in that direction.
“Now, back to your gun, and load as quickly as you like!” exclaimed I; for I knew that a very critical moment was at hand for us; a moment that would decide whether it was the galley or ourselves that was to be victorious. And presently my anticipation became realised; the Spaniard, finding his escape cut off, again putting over his helm until the vessel swerved round with her long, keen bows pointing straight at us. Her commander intended to run us aboard—if he could—and, should he succeed, the schooner would either be sent to the bottom by the violence of the shock, or we should fall into the hands of the Spaniards, to endure, in all probability, a fate even more horrible than that from which Hoard had escaped.
Straight as an arrow for us came the galley, her two masts keeping steadily in one as her helmsman relentlessly followed the schooner’s movement through the water, while the long oar-blades now rose and fell quickly in perfect time, urging the long, snake-like hull toward us at a speed of fully seven knots. Tom Hardy mopped the perspiration of excitement from his brow with a bright red handkerchief as he muttered anathemas upon his previous ill-luck, but I saw that he had pulled himself together, for his hand was as steady as yours is at this moment as he gently waved it in direction of those who were training the gun.
“Now, Tom,” said I, when he had reported all ready, “this shot must go home, mind; there must be no missing this time! So take it coolly; let her approach us to within a hundred fathoms before you think of firing—I will give you the word—and then let her have it as soon as you are certain of your aim.”
“Ay, ay, sir,” answered Tom. “I’ll have her this time or you may call me a sojer. Give the word, sir, whenever you like.”
“There is no hurry, Tom,” said I. “Keep her covered for another three minutes, and then you may do as you like. And you, my man,” I continued, turning to the helmsman, “steer small for the next few minutes, and give Tom a chance.”
“Ay, ay, sir; ‘steer small’ it is!” answered the man.
“They’re at work upon that gun of theirs, sir,” reported Hardy at this moment. “Shall I fire and stop ’em, sir?”