A long hail from the boats now followed, to which Mendouca replied—
“If you do it will be at your peril; I have been cleared out once before just about this same spot, and I do not intend to be robbed a second time. Keep off, I tell you! If you advance another stroke I will fire!”
And instantly afterwards I heard him say to his own men in Spanish—
“Now, lads, you have them all in a cluster, let them have it. Fire!”
The sharp, ringing report of the brigantine’s nine-pounders immediately pealed out, and even through the shock and concussion of the discharge I thought that, as I stood with my ear at the open port, I caught the sound of a crash. Whether this was so or not, there could be no mistake about the screams and groans of agony that came floating over the water in response to our broadside, mingled with cries of command, the roll and dash of oars in the water, a rattling volley of musketry, and the deeper notes of two boat-guns fired almost together, the shot of one at least of which I heard and felt strike the hull of the brigantine.
All was now in an instant noise and confusion on deck; the silence that had held the tongues of the crew was now no longer necessary, and the jabber, the oaths, the shouting, the loud, defiant laughs, the rumbling of the gun-carriages, the creaking of tackle-blocks, the thud of rammers and sponges, the calls for cartridges, all combined to create a hubbub that would not have shamed the builders of Babel; and through all and above all rose Mendouca’s voice in short, sharp sentences of appeal, encouragement, and direction to his men. I could hear, by the furious grinding of handspikes, the breathless ejaculations of the men, and the crash of the gun-carriages as the guns were run out, that the Francesca’s crew were working like demons; and almost before I could have believed it possible, they had again loaded their guns and a second broadside rang out over the still water, to be again followed by a still more gruesome chorus of cries and groans, and the sudden cessation of the sound of the oars, loud above which rose the exultant cheers of the ruffians on deck.
“Hurrah, lads!” I heard Mendouca exclaim joyously; “load again smartly, but with grape and canister only this time. We have checked them for a moment, but they have not yet had enough, I fear; they will come at us again as soon as they have picked up their shipmates, so now is your time; load and let them have it while they are stationary!”
And while he was speaking I could also hear a voice—that, unless I was greatly mistaken, belonged to Young, the first luff of the Barracouta—exclaiming at no great distance—
“Pull starboard, back port; now back, hard, all, and let us pick up those poor fellows before the sharks get the scent of them! Easy all; steady, lads, steady; hold water! Now then, my hearties, lay hold of the oars and let us get you inboard sharp; we can’t afford to lie here to be peppered. Help the wounded, those of you who are unhurt. That’s your sort, Styles, bring him along here; is he still alive, do you think? All right, I have him! Now then, coxswain, heave with a will, but don’t hurt the poor fellow more than you can help. Gently, man, gently; now lift handsomely, so—”
Crash! the relentless broadside of the Francesca again pealed forth, and again uprose that dismal wail of shrieks in testimony of its too terribly truthful aim. Frantic cheers and shouts of exultation burst from the lips of the slaver’s crew, in the midst of which Mendouca’s voice rang out—