“We might try if you wish it, captain; but it blows fresh, and she won’t be very fond of this lee shore. I think, if you allow me to advise, we’d better hug it; take the chance of a long shot in rounding that headland, and then run for the inner channel behind the Isle of Pines. He’ll not be after following us there; or, if he does, the frigate’s keel will chance to scrape acquaintance with a reef.”
“You are right, Gregson,” said Ethelston. “The Pride may fetch that point on this tack. Keep a close luff, Harrison.”
“Luff it is, sir,” was the reply, as Ethelston went below to consult his chart, and to prepare himself for entering the intricate channel between the Isle de Pinos and the main island.
The gallant little brig well sustained her high character as a sailer, and dashed her bows fearlessly through the foaming waves, under a press of canvasss such as few vessels of her tonnage could have borne. The breeze was freshening, and the frigate now shaped her course with the evident intention of cutting off the chase from rounding the headland before mentioned.
The men on board the brig were now clustered forward, anxiously debating the probable issue; while Cupid steamed away in his caboose, preparing the dinner as quietly as if there had been no frigate to windward, nor a rock–bound shore to leeward; but though he seemed thus busied in his usual avocations, he cast every now and then his dark eye upon The Epervier; and few on board could estimate better than himself the danger of their situation.
Ethelston, having finished a careful examination of his chart, now came on deck, and a single glance sufficed to show him that he could not round the point a–head without coming within range of the frigate’s guns: but the brig had kept her offing, and he had little doubt of her making good her escape, unless she were crippled by a shot from the enemy.
The Epervier now hoisted her colours for the brig to heave–to; and that being disregarded, she fired a shot, which fell short of her bows. Finding that no notice was taken of this, L’Estrange ordered his first lieutenant to fire at the saucy brig in good earnest, to bring her to her senses. Fortunately for the latter, there was a short angry sea running, and the distance being considerable, the first shot did not take effect. Several of the hands on board the brig had served in men–of–war; these were now oracles among their messmates, and they looked with some anxiety at their young captain, curious to see how he would behave under fire, for they believed he had never smelt powder: and although strict and firm in his command, he was usually so gentle and quiet in his manner, that they considered him rather a studious than a fighting character. Their curiosity was not, however, much gratified; for Ethelston, without appearing to notice the frigate, kept his eye steadfastly fixed upon the cape a–head; and, after a brief silence, he said, “Gregson, there is a strong current which sets in shore here, The Pride cannot weather that point on this tack.”
“You are right, sir,” said the mate; “L’Estrange has got his bristles up, he is nearing us every minute, and if we carry on this course, in another half–hour, both will go ashore.”
“Ha!” exclaimed the young captain, the colour rising in his cheek, as a sudden thought flashed across him. “If we could ensure that both would go to pieces among those breakers, it would be a glorious death for the little brig to die!”
He spoke these words in an under tone, and rather musing to himself than addressing his officer. The latter, however, overheard them, and looked at him with an astonishment which he could not repress; for he also knew as little as the crew of the determined courage that reposed under the calm and quiet demeanour of his young commander. Again a wreath of smoke issued from the bows of the frigate, and a round shot passed through the rigging of the chase, doing fortunately no material damage, but proving that they were now within easy range.