A few words of advice followed, and we then returned to the deck. The boats were lowered, a twelve-pound carronade placed in the bows of the launch, the fighting-crews paraded, and their weapons examined to see that everything was in fighting order, and then we trundled down over the side and shoved off.
Chapter Twenty Five.
The Rocca Islets.
The night had grown somewhat darker within the last hour, a few light clouds having come up to windward, spreading themselves over the sky and obscuring a good many of the stars; so that by the time we had been away from the ship about a quarter of an hour it was impossible to see anything of her except the light which twinkled at her gaff-end, and which might easily have been mistaken for a star.
We rounded the south-west angle of the island; and soon afterwards found ourselves pulling up a narrow channel between the island and the reefs, in perfectly smooth water, save for the slight undulations of the ground-swell. We reckoned that the strangers were now about two miles distant, so with muffled oars, and in the strictest silence, we paddled gently on, Mr Flinn leading in the launch. After about half an hour of this work, the launch ceased pulling, the other boats following suit; and the word was passed for the gig—in which I had been bringing up the rear—to pass ahead. We did so, and in another minute were alongside the leading boat.
“We can’t be far off them now, Ralph,” said Paddy in a loud whisper, “so just go aisy ahead, me darlint, and see what you can find out. And don’t be a month of Sundays about it, aither, you spalpeen, for we’ll soon be havin’ the daylight upon us; indade it looks to me as if the sky is lightin’ up to the east’ard already, so we’ve no time to spare.”
“Never fear,” said I, “I’ll not be a moment longer than I can help. Give way, gigs, and pass the word for the bow oar to lay in and keep a bright lookout ahead.”
We swept silently away, the stroke oar having orders to keep his eye on the boats as long as it was possible to see them; and he was just reporting to me in a whisper that he had lost sight of them when the bow man gave the word “oars,” and said he could see something broad on our port bow. The boat’s head was sheered to port, and at the same moment I caught sight of the brigantine’s spars showing up black and indistinct against the dark sky. She was not above fifty yards away from us, and I had just given the word to paddle quietly ahead when a voice hailed us in Spanish, ordering us to keep off or they would fire. Before we could reply, crash came a volley of musketry at us, tearing up the water all round the boat, and one poor fellow dropped his oar and fell forward off his seat.