“Hold on of all!” suddenly exclaimed Percival. Then, turning to the skipper, he continued. “The wind is favouring us again, sir; she is still clean full; and if the breeze keeps as it is for ten minutes more, we shall fetch out clear of everything.”
“So much the better,” remarked the skipper. “Our present course, however, will take us unpleasantly close to that battery; so,”—looking round until his eye lighted on me—“be so good as to step down to the main-deck, Mr Chester, and request Mr Flinn to treble-shot his larboard broadside and pour it into that battery as we pass. Perhaps we may be a second or so beforehand with them; and if so, a well-directed broadside on our part may stop their fire altogether.”
I soon found Mr Flinn; and, having delivered my message, returned at once to the quarter-deck, anxious to see how we should fare with this last battery, which, to judge by appearances, was the most formidable of them all. As I emerged through the hatchway. Percival gave the word to the helmsman to keep away a couple of points, the frigate having just shaved past the most prominent part of the shoal. This brought the battery directly abreast of us, and less than a quarter of a mile distant; and I was waiting for the concussion of our broadside, which I momentarily expected would be poured into it, when the whole face of the fort blazed out into a line of fire; there was a deafening roar, a loud whirring sound in the air, a crashing among our spars aloft, two distinct and heavy thuds, telling that some of the shot had struck our hull; and then, as the mizen-topmast fell over the side, the fore-topgallant-mast following—the topmast-head being shot away—our whole broadside rang out at once, and we distinctly heard the crushing sound of the shot as it struck the masonry.
The breeze had in the meantime freshened somewhat, and notwithstanding our crippled condition, we were slipping through the water at the rate of about five knots. We had by this time run the gauntlet of all the batteries on each side of the haven, and we considered that we had had the worst that we were to have; our spirits accordingly began to rise, as the prospect of escape became more hopeful. The skipper expected that we should have to sustain a couple more broadsides from the battery with which we had just exchanged compliments, after which, if we escaped further serious damage, we might consider ourselves safe. Every eye—excepting perhaps Percival’s and the helmsman’s—was accordingly directed anxiously to the dark frowning mass which stood out indistinctly from the dark background of land, and which every moment grew more and more vague and undefined, expecting to see the lurid line of fire blaze out from the darkness once more. But minute after minute passed by, the frigate drawing out from the land all the while, and the breeze freshening with every fathom of additional distance, until nothing could be discerned, even with the aid of our night-glasses, but the feeble glimmer of the lanterns showing through the port-holes; and presently these abruptly disappeared: the battery was shut in by a projecting point of land and we had escaped.
The moment that this agreeable fact became known the crew with one accord gave three hearty cheers, the skipper himself for the nonce laying aside his usual sang-froid and leading off. The guns were secured, a liberal allowance of grog served out, and then, late as it was—about half an hour after midnight—all hands turned-to to repair damages.
Chapter Ten.
An important Mission.
Once fairly at sea and out of reach of the enemy’s shot, we had time to take a look at ourselves and realise the extent of our damages. When passing over the same ground a few hours before, the “Juno” presented as pretty a picture as a nautical connoisseur could wish to see, with her hull recently painted, every spar in its place, and adjusted there to a nicety, her rigging in perfect order, and her white sails—the new look just worn off them, and barely stretched into their proper shape—without a blemish or fault to mar their perfect appearance. Now, she passed out to sea with her fore and main-topgallant-masts and mizen-topmast hanging over the side, the fore-topsail-yard down on the cap, the spankerboom shot away in the jaws, the flying-jib-stay and halliards cut through and the sail towing alongside, her canvas riddled with shot-holes, ends and bights of ropes streaming out in the wind everywhere aloft, and two 36-pound shot in her side. Luckily, however, our casualties ended here; for, notwithstanding the hailstorm of shot through which we had passed, not a man on board was hurt.