The frigate was at this time scarcely half-a-mile distant, and had her guns been properly served, the broadside to which she had treated us ought to have left us floating a helpless wreck on the water, and completely at her mercy; but, instead of this, the shot which damaged me was the only one which could be said to have taken effect; the remainder of the broadside passing some through our sails, and some wide of their mark altogether.
“A miss is as good as a mile,” remarked the skipper to Sennitt, after he had glanced round, and noted the trifling damage done. “Hillo, Chester, are you hurt, my lad?” he added, addressing me, as he observed my gory visage. “Slip down to the doctor, and get him to clap a plaster over your mast-head, and then turn in, if you like. What a set of lubbers they are aboard that frigate!” he continued to Sennitt. “Had she been English, instead of French, that broadside would have blown us out of the water. I have been for the last ten minutes seriously thinking of hauling down the colours, rather than risk a heavy sacrifice of life; but if that is the best they can do, we will hold on everything, at all events for a short time longer. I wonder whether there would be any chance of—” and he said something in so low a tone that I did not catch it. Sennitt pondered deeply for a minute, then he looked up and said, “Upon my word, sir, I think it would. Our lads are rather raw, but they behaved splendidly in the case of the privateer, and so, I believe, they would now. Yes, I think it might have just a chance of success; a bold rush often does wonders.”
“You are right, Sennitt. Call the hands aft, if you please, and let us see how they take the proposal.”
My head was beginning to ache most villainously, but curiosity got the better of me for the moment, and I determined to postpone my visit to friend Bolus, until I had heard what the skipper had to say.
In a minute or two every man was on the quarter-deck, hat in hand, and expectancy in every feature.
“My lads,” commenced the skipper, “I have sent for you, because I have a proposition to make, and I wish to see for myself how you individually take it. When the frigate astern was first made out this morning, I was in hopes that the little ‘Scourge’ would prove active enough to keep us out of reach of the Frenchman’s shot; but you have seen for yourselves how completely fallacious that hope has been. The frigate goes two feet to our one, and were she being fought as so beautiful a craft ought to be, all hands of us would, by this time, be fairly under way for a French prison. But you see how it is; there are a lot of tinkers and tailors aboard there; they are not seamen, and do not deserve the luck of being sent to sea in such a fine vessel; it is evident that, though they may possibly know how to sail her, they cannot fight her. They cannot possibly keep her long; the English are certain to have her sooner or later, and since that is the case, why should not we have her? No, stay a moment; don’t cheer, lads, until you have heard me out. Of course, anything like a regularly fought action between us and her is out of the question; she is a two-and-thirty twelve-pounder, against which we can only show eight six pounders; a single broadside from her—well delivered—would send us to the bottom. But I think there is just a possibility—by a little manoeuvring on our part—of getting alongside her; and if that can be done, I am of opinion that, by a bold rush from all hands, we might secure possession of her. No doubt there will be plenty of hard knocks to be had for the asking; but even that is better than a French prison. What say you, my lads?”
A hearty cheer was the first response; then there was a general putting of heads together, and much eager talking for about a couple of minutes. Finally a topman—one Bob Adams—a magnificent specimen of the British tar, a perfect Hercules in build, and one of the prime seamen of the ship, shouldered his way to the front, and, with an elaborate sea-scrape and a tug at his forelock, addressed the skipper,—
“We hopes your honour will excuse us, if we’ve taken a minute or two to work out this here traverse, and reduce it to plain sailing; but the purposal as your honour has laid athwart our hawse fetched us all up standin’ just at first, and it warn’t until we’d had time to pay off, and gather way on t’other tack, as I may say, that we was able to get the bearins of it. You see, sir, there’s only about sixty on us all told, now that we’ve sent away a prize crew, and we reckon that there ain’t far short of 220 hands aboard of Johnny, yonder. Nevertheless and notwithstanding, howsumdever, as your honour says, they’re little better than so many tailors, and tailors was never worth very much that ever any of us heard on at a good stand-up fight; so the long and the short of it is this, sir; you put us alongside, and we’ll have her in the twinklin’ of a purser’s lantern. Ain’t that it, boys?”
“Ay, ay, that’s it, Bob; you’ve paid it out without so much as a single kink; we mean to have her,” responded a voice in the crowd.
“Then three cheers for the skipper, and may he get us lots of prize-money,” exhorted Bob, to the intense amusement of Captain Brisac; and the cheers were given with such energy that I have no doubt they were distinctly heard on board the Frenchman.