I went below to dress myself, and as I was putting on my jacket, bang, I heard a gun fired at us.
"Call Mr Brail, Lennox," said Mr Lanyard. "Tell him the chase has run out two stern chase-guns, and has just fired at us."
I came on deck as he spoke.
"Did the shot come near you, Mr Marline?" continued Lanyard.
"It whistled right over our masthead, sir—it was very well aimed."
"Never mind, haul as close by the wind as you can, and gain the weather gage if possible. I want to creep alongside on his weather quarter."
This was done; and seeing that we sailed so much faster than he did, and that, as we hauled up across his stern within musket-shot, with both guns pointed at him, we could rake him if we chose, he did not venture to fire again. Presently we were within hail, and found that it was the Roger Beresford, or some such name, from London, bound to Antigua.
"Heave-to, and I will send a boat on board of you."
But although his fight had considerably evaporated, yet he seemed noways inclined to do this thing, even after he had been told who we were, and that the vessel astern was his Majesty's frigate the Gazelle. He kept his people all at quarters, and I noticed that his broadside consisted of six twelve-pound carronades, and a long gun amidships; rather too many pills for a comfortable dose to so small a hooker as the Midge, if he should prove obstinate, besides the absurdity of the thing in being peppered by one of our own merchant craft, through a vagary of the master's.
As we approached, one of the muskets of the motley group that were clustered on the poop went off, apparently from awkwardness or accident, which the others took for a signal, and four or five were let drive, but fortunately mighty wide of their mark.