As the French frigate continued to sweep down towards us I became exceedingly anxious; for it now seemed as though we had delayed a trifle too long the act of filling away upon the “Vigilant,” and that, at our low rate of speed, we should be unable to draw out of her immediate path. The ship, now distant not more than half a mile, came surging on, with her broad expanse of canvas fully distended by the following gale, and straining at the stout spars and tough hemp rigging as though it would tear the very masts themselves out of the hull and come flying down to leeward like cobwebs before a summer breeze; or as though, when the ship rose upon the ridge of a sea, lifting her fore-foot and some forty feet of her keel clear out of the water, she would take flight, and, leaving the sea altogether, soar away upon her canvas pinions like a startled sea-fowl. She was rolling heavily, so much so indeed that we more than once saw her dip her stunsail-boom-ends alternately on the port and starboard sides into the water.
At length, as we rose to the crest of one mountainous sea, which had completely hidden the French ship from us, up to her very royal-mast-heads, we saw her surging madly forward upon the breast of the one which followed it, the hissing foam-crest which pursued her rearing itself high and threateningly above her taffrail, while the ship herself, with her port gunwale deep buried in the water, was taking a desperate and uncontrollable sheer to starboard which we saw in a moment would hurl her crashing into the little “Vigilant” somewhere about the mainmast.
A cry, something between a yell and a shriek of horror and dismay, burst simultaneously from the lips of our crew as this awful danger burst upon us; and, in a momentary panic, a general rush was made by all hands to that part of the vessel which appeared likely to receive the annihilating blow, with the intention of making a spring for life at the frigate’s bowsprit and headgear. Even the helmsman was so infected by the sight that, abandoning the wheel, he too joined in the rush.
There was no time for remonstrance. Smellie and I were standing near the companion at the moment, watching the approach of the Frenchman; and as the rush took place I seized him by the arm, and, shouting in his ear, “Cut the mizzen-sheet!” sprang to the wheel, and with frantic energy whirled it hard up. By the greatest good luck the helmsman had already put the wheel a spoke or two over as the crest of the sea swept under us, so that we were actually paying-off at the moment that I took the wheel. This fact, combined with the additional amount of helm which I gave her, and the lightning-like rapidity with which little Smellie whipped out his keen pocket-knife and drew it across the straining strands of the mizzen-sheet, saved the “Vigilant.” The mizzen flogged itself to ribbons in a moment, while the foresail paid our bows broad off, and, filling powerfully at the same time, dragged us clear by the bare skin of our teeth. The frigate rushed foaming past our stern, so closely that the surge from her port bow dashed in over our taffrail, and the leach of her lower stunsail, catching the head of our mizzen-mast, buckled the spar until the port shrouds parted, when, luckily for us, crack went her stunsail-boom and her lower and fore-topmast stunsail began to thrash about so wildly, that they promised to give her crew their hands full to get in the sails without injury to any of the men.
Passing each other in such disagreeably close proximity, we had of course a perfect view of the French frigate, and a most superb craft she certainly was. A bran-new ship, to all appearance: she seemed to have been at sea scarcely long enough to wash the varnish off her teak and mahogany deck-fittings. The planks of her deck were almost snow-white, and some little taste and trouble appeared to have been expended in a successful effort to impart a graceful effect to the decorations about the front of her spacious poop, beneath the over-hanging pent-house of which appeared her handsome steering-wheel, with four men hard—a great deal too hard, it seemed to me—at work at it. She showed eighteen ports of a side, all closed, and carried her due proportion of carronades on her forecastle and quarter-deck. Her masts, magnificent sticks, and her short stout yards were bending like fishing-rods under the tremendous strain of her new canvas, which appeared as though it had not yet fully stretched into its proper shape; and every rope was coiled down in its proper place with the most scrupulous neatness. But, oh! the confusion and jabber and excitement of her crew. As she shaved past us, every man on deck jumped upon the hammock-rail and had his separate say to us—whether it were a word of caution, of congratulation at our escape from being run down, or of objurgation, it was quite impossible to tell; but, from the threatening character of their actions, I judged it to be the latter. There was only one calm individual among the whole, and he was the first lieutenant. He stood by the mizzen-rigging on the port side, clinging to a belaying-pin, and he vouchsafed us not so much as a passing glance, his whole attention being given to his spars and rigging, on which he kept his eyes anxiously fixed. The skipper, on the other hand, seemed to be more excited than any one else. When my eye lighted upon him he was grasping the poop-rail with his right hand and shaking his left fist at us. Just then our eyes met, when, to my surprise and disgust, he turned to a marine near him and pointed at me, at the same time apparently giving the man an order. The fellow raised his piece and fired, and the next instant I felt a violent blow accompanied by a sharp burning pain in my left arm, which dropped helplessly at my side, broken between the elbow and the shoulder.
All this passed in a single moment of time; the next instant we were vividly recalled to a sense of our own danger. As we rose upon the next wave our port quarter was exposed to its advancing crest, and there was only time to shout to all hands to “Hold on for your lives!” before it came hissing up, and, arching over us quite six feet above our low bulwarks, tumbled on board, a regular comber, filling us to the gunwale, bursting in the companion-doors, flooding the cabin, smashing one of our boats to atoms, and washing away everything that was not securely lashed. By something approaching a miracle, none of the men were swept overboard; and as soon as I had ascertained this by a hasty glance round the deck, directly I got my head above water, I gave the order for the fore-lug to be loosed and set. The men wanted no second bidding; they knew that if we got pooped a second time it would be all over with us; and in an incredibly short space of time we had the sail set, and were bowling away to leeward after the Frenchman.
Our position was now very much the reverse of an enviable one; as, being compelled for safety’s sake to run dead before it, we were exactly in the line of fire between the two ships, which continued to bang away at each other from time to time, quite regardless of the possible consequences to us; and their shot came hissing past us and over us so closely that it was manifestly imperative upon us to shift our berth without loss of time. Giving orders, therefore, that the spare mizzen should be bent and set, and the craft brought to once more—but on the starboard tack this time, so as to afford us an opportunity to knot the shrouds on the larboard side, carried away by the French frigate—I left little Smellie and Tom Hardy on deck to see to its execution; and, summoning the assistant-surgeon to my aid, retired below to have my wounded arm coopered up.
My friend Sawbones had just arrived at that stage of his operations which required him to torture me almost beyond my powers of endurance by grinding the two broken bone-ends together to get them in proper position, when we felt a violent concussion, accompanied by a loud explosion on deck, speedily followed by vociferous cheering; and the next moment down trundled that young scamp Smellie, his face beaming all over with a broad grin, as he exclaimed,—
“Hurrah, Chester, I’ve done it! Did it myself, Hardy will tell you so.”
“Did what, for goodness’ sake?” groaned I, as the medico, under the influence of a terrific roll, gave my arm a most awful wrench. “What did you fire for?”