John Coe wished sincerely that this proposition should be adopted. Only in case of boarding the ship could he hope to carry out his plans; and it did not seem to him possible that boarding could be done in such a state of the weather. Should muskets be used, while the vessels were thus running side by side, his men—acting under his orders too—would, like the rest of the pirate-brig’s crew, do all the damage they could to those on board the ship; and he would have no means of preventing them.
“It is not the wind that is in our way,” answered Captain Vance to Mr Seacome, “so much as the waves; and seas will run higher and higher while this gale continues. Our best chance is now. Mr Bowsprit,” he exclaimed, turning to that officer, “have you reloaded your gun?”
“Ay, ay, sir,” was the answer.
“Then fire into them,” said the captain, “and do them all the damage you can.”
The Long Tom again pealed a savage note. But the only damage done to the Duchess was a small hole made through one of her sails.
The shot was immediately returned; it was fired by Captain Johnson’s own hand. The ball passed through the guards and swept across the deck of the Falcon, killing one man, and wounding two more by the splinters which it tore from the timbers through which it had forced its way. The loud peal of the cannon had not died away, when another shot from the Duchess came almost upon its track, again killing one and wounding two more.
“This will never do, Mr Bowsprit,” said Captain Vance. “Is your gun loaded again?”
“Yes, sir,” was the reply.
“Let me manage her this time,” said the captain.
His shot was well aimed; it struck the guards of the Duchess, scattering the splinters far and wide.