Captain Brisac briefly thanked the men for their plucky response to his call, and then sent them back to their quarters, all impatience for the eventful moment to arrive.
The frigate was rapidly nearing us, but I thought there would be time to get my head plastered up; so I rushed below, and found Bolus standing at the table, with his coat off and his shirt-sleeves rolled up; a formidable array of long, narrow-bladed knives, sharp enough to cut one if only looked hard at, on one hand, and an equally formidable array of saws, tweezers, long needles, silken thread, etcetera, etcetera, on the other.
“Here, doctor,” I exclaimed; “the skipper’s compliments, and will you ‘clap a plaster over my mast-head,’ and bear a hand about it, please; the Frenchman will be alongside of us in less than five minutes, and we are going to board and carry him with a rush.”
“And you, I presume, intend to head the boarders as usual,” remarked the doctor, with a quiet grin. “What is the extent of the damage? Here, sit down and let me have a look at it; don’t be impatient; I’ll undertake to tinker you up as good as new in two or three minutes,” he continued, as I seated myself, and he began to sponge the blood away. “There is no great harm done, merely a simple laceration of the scalp. There, I think that will keep the top of your head from blowing off, until after you have demolished the Frenchman. I should dearly like to go with you, but what would my poor patients do, if I happened to get an unlucky knock on the head? No; I must remain where I am, I suppose, though it’s too bad that I should be cooped up here, while others are having all the fun. Now you may go as soon as you please, but look here, my boy,” he added in quite a different tone; “take care of yourself; a knock on the head, such as you have had, is very apt to make one giddy, and giddiness is an awkward mishap at a critical moment; take my advice, and remain quietly below until all is over.”
Chapter Six.
Our “Dashing Exploit.”
The doctor’s advice was well meant, and no doubt good, but I was too excited to think so at the moment, so I darted on deck just in time to hear the skipper say,—“Now, lads, he is coming up on our port quarter. Run the starboard guns over to port, and load fore and aft with a round shot and a charge of grape on top of it. Give the muzzles a good elevation, and fire at the moment that the two ships touch, then away on board for your lives, and recollect, the first blow is half the battle, so let it be a good hard one. Steady now, here she comes.”
During my visit to the doctor’s den, sail had been shortened on board the “Scourge,” down to the topsails jib, and driver; the stunsails being stowed and the booms run in; while the courses, topgallant sails, and royals were merely clewed up. The Frenchman evidently had been a great deal mystified by this manoeuvre and the cessation of firing on our part; and now, while he was ranging up on our port quarter, and so close that one might almost have hove a biscuit on board, all was confusion with him; the hands being busy taking in their canvas in a slipshod, lubberly way that would have disgraced a collier; while the babble of tongues must have been deafening, judging from what we heard of it.