On getting within range of our guns, we opened fire from a dozen pieces or more, but without doing her much damage. Again we fired, sending our shot crashing on board her, when the guns being run in and reloaded, we stood on, receiving her broadside, the shots going through our sails and cutting some of our running rigging, then luffing-up across her bows, we raked her fore and aft, and went about, showing that we intended to give her the other broadside. Not relishing this, she hauled down her colours and triced up her sails.
A well-armed boat’s crew was sent on board to take possession, when her ship’s company were speedily removed, and those of her people who remained in her were ordered to steer her to Kinsale harbour, a short distance to the southward of Cork, in Ireland.
The next vessel we chased proved to be English, and as she was bound for the Thames, she was captured and sent away like the first, with part of the Dutch crew, who, being promised good pay, had no objection to navigate her.
A third vessel was seen the next day, carrying the flag of France. Chase was given to her also, and the Charles coming alongside, she struck without firing a shot. She was also sent away, under command of one of the officers, for the same harbour as the former prize.
“Why, these fellows are pirates,” observed Lancelot to me, though he took care to speak in a low voice, so that only Martin and I who was standing near could hear him.
“Little doubt about that,” answered Martin; “all’s fish that comes to their net! I wish that we were well free of them, but how to get away is the difficulty. I suspect that if a Parliamentary ship was to catch the frigate, they’d hang us all up at the yard-arms.”
“Heaven forbid!” said Lancelot.
A few days after this, the look-out from the mast-head shouted—
“Five sail to the eastward!”
Presently afterwards three more were seen standing down channel, under all the canvas they could carry.