Peter took the glass, and went aloft. He also was some time there. When he came down, he handed the glass to the captain without speaking.
“Well, Peter, what do you think of her?” asked the latter. Peter took off his hat, and passed his hand over his brow. “Why, to say the truth, Captain Gale, I don’t like her looks at all. If ever one craft was like another, she’s like that strange brig which lay becalmed near us the time when we were attacked before going up the Mediterranean. It’s difficult to tell one vessel from another, but I very much suspect that she’s the very same piratical rascal we before fell in with, and that this brig is no stranger to her either.”
The captain replied, that he was afraid his apprehensions were too well-founded.
The next question was, how we were to escape from the corsair, should the stranger really be her. A couple of hours passed away, and although we were going at a good rate through the water, there could be no doubt that she was coming up with us. It was now blowing a stiffish breeze, and I saw the captain and Peter often casting an anxious glance aloft, to see whether the masts and spars would bear the heavy strain put on them. Happily there was not much sea; and though the studden-sail-booms bent and cracked again, they held on bravely. Our great hope was, that we might be able to keep well ahead of the stranger till night came on; and then that, by hauling our wind, he might pass us in the dark. We had already got as much wind as the brig could stagger under, and thus one of the greatest dangers we had to apprehend was from carrying away any of our spars. Over and over again the captain looked up at the mast-head, and exclaimed, “Hold on, good sticks, hold on, and serve us a good turn!”
A stern chase is a long chase; and though this was not quite a stern chase, by-the-by, it was nearly one, and we hoped it might prove so long as to have no end. Still our pursuer kept after us. As he drew nearer, we had less and less doubt that he was the very Salee Rover we had before so much to do with. At the same time, our hopes of escaping him decreased. Peter had set himself down on the heel of the bowsprit to rest. I brought him his dinner there, for he had not left the deck for a moment since the morning. He did not look up for some time till I begged him to eat. Still he did not answer. At last I asked him what he was thinking about.
“Why, Jack, how we may manage to escape from the pirate,” he answered after some time. “A very curious idea has struck me, and if the captain will listen to me, we’ll put it into execution. It can do no harm, and if our pursuer comes up with us, I think it will make him haul his wind in a pretty considerable hurry.”
I asked Peter to tell me his plan, wondering what it could possibly be.
“I take it, you see, that the brig out there is the very same which attacked this vessel, and her crew, of course, know that there was not a living soul left on board, but that there were six heads in the cabin,” he answered, speaking very slow. “Now, in my wild young days, I was once for some time behind the scenes of a theatre, and if I had been a scholar I might have become a play-actor. When there, I saw what wonders a little paint, and canvas, and pasteboard could work. As there are six of us, I propose to put a false neck over each of our heads, and I’ll manage to paint in a quarter less than no time, six as ugly faces as you ever saw, on as many balls of canvas, which I’ll stuff with oakum. So each of us will have a head to hold in his hand. Unless some accident happens, we certainly can manage to keep ahead of the rover till nightfall. Then we’ll just mix up a number of lumps of gunpowder and sulphur, and place them about the deck before each of us. As soon as the rover ranges up alongside, we’ll fire them all at the same moment, and I shall be very much mistaken if the cut-throats don’t think that there’s a company on board they would rather not have anything to do with.”
I could not help laughing at Peter’s quaint notion—still, however little effect it might have on civilised people, I thought it was very likely to scare away the sort of men who composed the Moorish crew, and I advised him instantly to propose it to the captain. Peter, accordingly, bolting his dinner with a haste which showed that he was thinking more about his idea than it, went aft, and opened up the case. Captain Gale listened more attentively than I expected, and, after a little consideration, said that he thought it was very likely to succeed. The plan once adopted, all hands set energetically to work to make the required preparations.
There was, fortunately, an abundance of materials. I got out the paint-pots, and mixed the colours according to Peter’s directions. He himself, with canvas and palm needles, fitted the necks, cutting holes for us to see through them; the other men were employed in making six prodigious round balls for heads, and covering one part with shakings, to serve as hair. He undertook to stand at the helm, and to have his head at the end of the boat-hook by his side, that he might lift it up at the proper moment. All the frying-pans and shallow pots which could be found were collected, and the captain made with damp gunpowder a number of what schoolboys call “Vesuviuses.” These, however, were very much larger than the contents of a schoolboy’s purse would allow him to make. He tried one of them, and found it sent forth a lurid glare, which even in the day-time showed what effect it would produce at night.