As we approached the roar became louder, but above the noise of the breakers we heard the sound of oars, and a hoarse voice shouted, "Heave-to!"
"Ay! ay!" replied the master, rushing to relieve the man at the tiller.
"What! You are not going to give up without an effort?" exclaimed the cornet. But with an oath the master bade him hold his tongue.
Ahead a boat loomed through the mist, manned by a dozen rowers, with several musketeers in her stern-sheets. The men's matches were lighted, and their muskets at the ready.
"Heave-to, once more, I say, and throw us a line," shouted an officer.
"I hear you, sir," replied the master. "Down sail!" he shouted to the crew; but, obeying a motion of his hand, the men remained motionless.
The next instant the master had thrown his whole weight against the tiller; the Happy Adventure seemed to swing round as if on a pivot, and her bluff bows crashed into the rebels' boat.
A shattering of wood, a chorus of shouts and shrieks, and the stout craft had overridden the frail long-boat, Then, within a little more than an oar's length of the towering pinnacle of rock under our lee, the Happy Adventure spun round and resumed her course, the mist swallowing up the figures of the struggling men, though for long their cries were heard above the roar of the surf.
"I owe you an apology for mistrusting you," exclaimed the cornet, holding out his hand to the imperturbable master; but the stiff old sea-dog of Devon only bade him remember he was but a mere passenger, whereupon my fellow-voyager retired in confusion.
This was our only meeting with the vessels of Batten's squadron, and with the favouring breeze that soon dispersed the mist, the Happy Adventure bore steadily eastwards.