Evidently a couple of men were wounded, and great confusion was caused among the rest.
In consequence of this they lost way, and the distance between the boats was perceptibly increased.
However, they soon recovered, and continued the chase with fresh ardour, again shouting to the fugitives to stop.
“Stand off, villains, or we will fire again!” cried Lord Derwentwater. “What do you mean by molesting us thus?”
“We want the Pretender, and will have him,” rejoined the voice that had first spoken. “You had best deliver him up quietly. He shall not escape.”
Though very well inclined to answer this insolent speech by a shot, Lord Derwentwater forbore, but the pursuers again fired, and this time one of the rowers was hit in the arm, so that he could not pull at the oars, whereupon, Lord Widdrington took his place.
But the change, though quickly effected, caused some little delay, and the pursuers gained upon them.
An encounter now seemed imminent, and since the prince was determined not to yield, it might be fraught with most serious consequences.
To avert these if possible, Lord Derwentwater shouted lustily to attract the attention of the captain of the sloop which was now not more than a furlong off.
Captain Hawker was already on the alert, and prepared to render assistance. The firing had shown him the relative position of the boats, and comprehending exactly how matters stood, he thought it high time to interfere.