"Give way!" ordered Fielding, and the order was repeated by Cardyke in the whaler.
With less than a dozen yards separating the two boats the boarders pulled lustily towards the gigantic cruiser as she lay rising and falling slightly to the Channel rollers.
There was no accommodation ladder, that article having been unshipped before the vessel was put up for sale, so Fielding's boat ran alongside the starboard quarter, where a number of "chocks" afforded a rough and ready sort of ladder. The bow-man laid hold of a torpedo-boom bracket with his boathook, and the sub. prepared to ascend, Cardyke's craft lying just astern.
On the Independencia's deck no one was visible save a quartermaster who was leaning over the stanchion-rails. Having no man-ropes to assist him, Fielding's task was an awkward, not to say dangerous, one. He was half-way up the thirty-odd feet of freeboard, with a couple of bluejackets at his heels, when a noose rope was adroitly thrown over his shoulders, and jerked tight. Simultaneously a lariat descended into the whaler, caught Cardyke round the waist, and before any of his men could prevent it, the mid. was jerked up into the air.
With a crash two pieces of iron were dropped into the boats, staving out their garboards.
The pirate cruiser's propellers began to churn the water, and the Independencia gathered way. The bow-man of each boat endeavoured to secure a hold, but the drag of the water-logged craft was too great.
[Illustration: A NOOSE WAS ADROITLY THROWN OVER HIS SHOULDERS AND JERKED TIGHT.]
The predicament was an ignominious one. The boats' crews were swimming around their swamped boats, their officers were prisoners in the hands of the men they had hoped to capture, and the Frome, ere she could give chase, had to pick up the immersed bluejackets.