Again all was quiet for the space of an hour; and we, of course, fancied that the engagement had been concluded, and that we should have no chance of helping our friends. The general opinion was, that a large force of Malay pirates had been attacked by some European ships of war. While we were discussing the matter, we were again startled by a louder report than ever, followed by several others in rapid succession.
“Did you not fancy that you felt the vessel shake under our feet?” I asked; for, soon after the loudest report, I thought the schooner was lifted up and let down suddenly, in a very unusual way.
“Yes; if I did not know that we were in deep water, I should have thought she had struck on a shoal,” replied Van Graoul.
“Are you certain that we are in deep water?” asked Fairburn with emphasis. “We’ll see what the lead says.”
Van Graoul smiled. “I am not offended, Fairburn, though some might be; but you’ll find I’m right.”
“I hope so,” replied Fairburn; “but a current might be drifting us faster than we expected.” The lead was hove, deep water was found all round. “I cannot make it out,” exclaimed Fairburn.
“Nor I,” said Van Graoul, as he puffed away with his pipe. “Some ship blown up; or perhaps a score of prahus.”
Again the sound of firing was heard rolling away in the distance.
“It must be off Sourabaya, or Lombok, or perhaps as far away as Bali,” remarked Fairburn, listening attentively. “Sometimes I fancy it comes from the eastward, and may be away at Combobo, or Floris. Over a calm sea sounds travel a great distance.”
“I cannot help thinking that there must be some engagement on shore between the Dutch troops and the natives of some of those islands. They now and then are fond of making a disturbance,” said Barlow, the second mate.