Paul Gerrard, the Cabin Boy

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“It will give the boats of the man-of-war some work to do,” exclaimed Devereux, when he saw this. “I wish that we could get off to them first, though. I would give much to have a brush with those piratical scoundrels.”

Before long, however, the pirates again altered their minds. The breeze returning, sail was once more made, and the schooner, with the boats towing ahead, stood through the entrance. The time lost was probably of the greatest consequence to them, and by the time that the schooner was clear of the reefs, the man-of-war had drawn so near, that her character was no longer doubtful. Devereux had been anxiously watching her for some time, so had Reuben Cole.

“What do you think of her, Cole?” asked Devereux.

“What you knows her to be, sir—the Cerberus herself, and no other,” cried Reuben, in a more animated tone than he had indulged in for many a long day.

“I made sure it was she, sir, five minutes ago, but I was just afraid to speak; but when you axed me, sir, then I knowed it was all right.”

“The Cerberus!” cried the rest of the party in the same breath.

“Ay, she’s the fine old girl, no doubt about it,” exclaimed O’Grady. “Three cheers for the Cerberus! Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!”

All the party joined heartily in the shout. It was echoed from a distance, and old Charcoal was seen scrambling along on his crutches towards them. They congratulated him by signs at having escaped the fate which his cruel taskmasters had intended for him, and he seemed no less pleased than they were at the appearance of the English frigate. Their attention was, however, soon fully engrossed by the chase. The frigate had caught sight of the schooner, and was now crowding on all sail to overtake her. The latter was keeping as close in with the shore as the reefs would allow, with the intention, probably, of rounding the island and putting it between herself and her enemy. She, however, by keeping so close in, lost the sea breeze, which the frigate, keeping from necessity further out, retained. The pirates thus lost the advantage which the knowledge of the shore would have given them. Their craft was a fast one, but there was no faster frigate on the station than the Cerberus. She seemed putting forth all her speed, and it was soon evident that she was gaining rapidly on the chase. The wind, it must be understood, was off the land, along the south coast of which the vessels were standing towards the east. It was necessary, therefore, for the schooner, in order to get on the north side, either to stand a long way to the east, or else to make short tacks, so as to weather the eastern end of the island. The temptation to watch her proceedings was very great, and though the way round was long, and over soft sand in places, the party set off in that direction as fast as they could run. By the time they had reached a slight elevation, whence they could watch the further progress of the chase, the frigate had gained so greatly on the schooner, that the latter would, in a few minutes, be within range of her guns. The pirates must have seen that they had now little chance of escaping, but they would not give in.

“Hurra! There goes her first shot,” cried O’Grady, as a puff of smoke and a flash was seen to proceed from the frigate’s side, followed by a report, as the iron missile went leaping over the water, but falling short of the object at which it was aimed. For some half-hour or more the frigate did not throw another shot away; the schooner, meantime, made several tacks in shore, but the wind veered as she went about, and she gained far less ground than if she had continued on one tack. Still she managed nearly to weather the eastern point. The Cerberus, however, was by this time standing directly towards her, a point off the wind, so as to make her escape almost impossible. Again the frigate fired—the water was smooth, and her gunnery was good. The shot struck the schooner’s hull. Another and another followed. Still she stood on. She was in stays; another tack or two would carry her round the point, and there were reefs amid which she might possibly make her escape, when a shot, flying higher than the rest, struck the head of her main-mast. Over the side went the topmast and topsail, down came the mainsail, and the vessel’s head paying off, in five minutes she was hard and fast on a reef. The frigate had, meantime, been shortening sail, and scarcely had the schooner struck, when she dropped her anchor in a position completely to command the wreck with her guns.

“The villains will get their due now. Hurrah!” cried O’Grady. “But see, they are lowering their boats to escape on shore. If they fall in with us, they will knock us on the head to a certainty. Won’t discretion with us be the best part of valour? and hadn’t we just best get out of their way?”