Attack on the Spanish Hidalgo.
As no wounded men had been brought below, we trusted that the Dolphin was having the best of it. At last I begged Kitty to let me go on deck and ascertain how matters were going on.
“No, no, Charley,” she answered. “They may again begin firing;” but I saw that she was very anxious herself to learn the state of affairs.
“I will be back again in a minute,” I said, and was just escaping from her, when once more the thundering sound of big guns, with the rattle of musketry, broke the silence, and she caught me and held me fast.
The firing went on with redoubled vigour, and cries and shouts reached our ears. The alarm of Mrs Podgers increased.
“O dear, O dear!” she cried out, wringing her hands. “If Podgers was to be hit, what would become of me?”
Once more there was a cessation of the firing.
“Do let me run up, Kitty,” I said. “Some of those we care for may be wounded, and the rest too busy to bring them below.”
I knew my argument would prevail. “Let him go,” said Mrs Podgers. “I do so want to know how the captain is.”
I broke from her and climbed up the ladder. I was as active as a monkey, and quickly reached the deck. The fighting lanterns which hung against the bulwarks shed their light across it, and showed me several human forms stretched out motionless. The crew, stripped to their waists, were at the guns, while the officers stood about here and there among them. I caught sight of the captain’s stout figure, but I looked in vain for Mr Falconer. I ran forward in hopes of finding him. I had got nearly to the forecastle when the matches were applied to the guns, and as they were discharged a shower of shot came hissing across the deck.