A pitch-dark night came on. I went on watch at ten o'clock, and did a great deal of thinking while I paced the deck; but my wandering thoughts were soon called back. At eleven the lookout reported to me that he thought there was land dead ahead, as he could make out lights.
I ran forward, and sure enough I could see flashes here and there, and two or three steady points of light off our weather beam. I jumped below and called the Captain.
"Have you held the same course?" he asked.
"I think so, sir, unless the wind has changed."
"Oh, confound it, we must get a compass!" Gorham grumbled, as he ran up the ladder ahead of me.
He ascended a short ways into the weather shrouds.
"That's no shore," he cried to Mr. Carter, who had come on deck barefooted. "That's a big fleet bound out for the Indies—that's what it is. By Jupiter, we'll stop and get a compass! Port your helm!" he roared to the man at the wheel, and the booms swung out as we got before the wind.
We bore straight down upon the lights, that had now increased in number and vividness. We slackened our speed by taking in our topsails one after another, and hauling all sheets well aft. By one o'clock we were almost within speaking distance of the two rearmost ships, whose lights we could make out very plainly. As we displayed none of our own, we were probably invisible, owing to the blackness of the night. The crew had all been called on deck, and the carronades and the midship guns were loaded. And we came closer and closer, until it was only a question of time when a lookout should discern our presence.
"Get out the whale-boat, Mr. Carter," said Gorham, quietly, (he had been squinting through a night-glass). "The nearest vessel is a merchant brig! Now, Mr. Hurdiss," he added, turning to me and dropping his singsong for a moment, "see what you're made of. Take the carpenter and nine men, and board that brig. They're all asleep on her. Do it quietly, and fire no shot unless you have to. Here, take this cutlass—a slit throat stops a shout."
Almost before I knew it the whale-boat was ready, the men sitting on the thwarts with their cutlasses and pistols in their belts, and we had shoved off. I confess that I was trembling so from excitement that my breath came in short gasps, and I could not swallow for the life of me. The carpenter was sitting close to me on the gun-wale.