There was a shout of disappointed rage behind us, and several shots pattered in the water around the sloops. Then the friendly breeze and tide carried us out of harm’s way. We had failed to capture St. Johns, and the power of de Vilebon was unbroken.
CHAPTER IX.
HOW THE FRENCH TOOK PEMAQUID.
A stiff breeze soon carried us beyond reach of any shots from the fort. But we were in sorry plight. The men were weary, some were badly hurt, and all were in low spirits from the failure of our expedition. A new danger threatened us now. The sloop I was in had received a cannon ball near the water line, and, the sea being somewhat rough the water came in, so that it was necessary to man the pumps.
I sent some of my men to help the skipper at this task. The master of the craft told me that if the sea got much higher we would founder, and it was with anxious eyes that I watched the weather all that afternoon. But when the sun went down beneath the waves, in a glory of gold and crimson, our hearts were lighter, for we heard the sailors singing, as they trimmed the canvas:
“Red in the mornin’,
Sailors take warnin’.
Red sun at night,
Is sailor’s delight.”
Then, too, the skipper managed to get a spare sail over the rail, and, when it was bound with ropes, it somewhat stopped the gaping hole in the sloop’s side, and the water came in less freely.
Homeward bound. Of the days which followed we had little heart to take note, for our defeat was bitter upon us. On the tenth day after the battle at St. Johns, we came opposite Pemaquid.