"They do not fear to press her," observed the master gunner, "though they do not seek to gain the weather gauge. Think you that they'll dare to board, sir?"
"With this sea running? Aye, they'll try to run under our lee and throw a score of their ruffianly crew aboard us. And were we a peaceful trading craft they'd do it, though the sea were twice as high. Smart helmsmen most of those rascals are. I call to mind a Spanish captain I met in Cadiz nine years agone, who told me how his vessel, a xebec, was carried by an Algerine ship in this fashion, and in a heavy Levanter, to boot. But now, Master Touchstone, to your station!"
The Algerine was now but a few hundred yards astern, the foam flying from her sharp bows as they cleft the water. She had put up her helm and was bearing down on our lee quarter, doubtless to board in the manner that Captain Jeremy had predicted.
Observing that those of the crew who were not at the guns had armed themselves with musket or pistol, I took hold of a musket. Thanks to my forest training, I was well accustomed to handle a gun, being reckoned a tolerable shot, though on board the Golden Hope the motion of the ship put me at a disadvantage. Nevertheless, lying down on the poop, where a score of musketeers had already taken up a like position, I awaited the opening of the engagement, though I must confess the prospect of being under fire did not seem so welcome as it had in the security of my own home, where I used to hear the tales of glorious sea fights.
The sight of Captain Jeremy helped to reassure me. He was standing a short distance from the helmsman, his feet set widely apart and his shoulders braced up, with the air of a man who knows how to keep calm and resolute in the time of danger. Alternately glancing at the tightly drawing sails and the hostile ship astern, he directed the brig's course by a gentle motion of his hand, a signal that the quick-witted quartermaster knew how to obey.
"Stand by the weather after braces," the Captain shouted, and in response to the order the men rushed to man the ropes that served to trim the sails.
"Are you ready, master gunner?"
"Aye, aye, sir."
The Algerine was now barely one hundred yards astern, having achieved her object of getting to lee'ard of us. I could see her lofty fo'c'sle crowded with men--brown, black, aye, and even white faces, for renegades were to be found in the service of the infidels. Some of the crew wore turbans and flowing robes, others a kind-of hooded garment that reached to the knees; but the majority were naked from the waist upwards. With scimitar, spear, pistol, and musket they crowded ready for a spring upon our decks, while they rent the air with shouts of defiance and rage, which were borne to our ears by the wind.
"Ready all! Ease the helm down!"