Having satisfied myself on this score, I went with Phil for our pannikins of tea and whatever the cooks might be pleased to dish out in the shape of breakfast; but before we had succeeded in our purpose, and while yet standing in line, with a dozen men ahead of us, the ship gave a mighty plunge; we heard a noise like the muffled report of a 24-pounder, and the frigate swung around with a lurch that brought us up all standing against the starboard rail.
For the instant I was at a loss to understand what had happened, and then came the cry:—
"The port cable has carried away!"
The heavy chain had snapped under the enormous strain put upon it as the frigate made a wilder plunge than usual, and in an instant we were being driven stern foremost directly toward the entrance of the harbor, where could be seen, less than a mile in the offing, the two Britishers with everything snugged down to the gale.
In a twinkling there was a scene of apparent confusion on board the frigate, although as a matter of fact the seamen were working with a well-defined purpose, each intent on his portion of the task.
There was nothing to be done but crowd on all sail, and, whether we were ready or no, begin that trick which we believed would result in giving the Junior an opportunity of running the blockade.
Our men worked like beavers, and even Phil and I took a hand in pulling and hauling until the good frigate was well under way, staggering toward that jutting land known as the Point of Angels, a dangerous bluff to double in the best of weather, because of the sudden and violent squalls which are frequent there. As a rule all ships reef down while going around, and here was the Essex under full sail.
We expected the order which came a moment later, and the topmen were already standing by the rail to execute it.
In with the gallant-sails! We were going to haul close by the wind, counting on holding our weatherly position, and surely it seemed as if all would go as was desired; but the "luck" of the Essex had left her!