“She can’t move without wind, and if so, she’ll be bringing up a breeze,” observed Dick. “We shall soon be throwing the spray over our bows as we make way again through the water.”
Still the ship lay as immovable as before, her masts and spars, her black rigging, her white sails and shining hull reflected on the glass-like surface; at the same time the stranger got closer and closer, and now her topsails appeared, next her courses.
“She’s a big craft, that; twice the size of the Good Hope, I opine,” observed Martin. “If she’s a friend, she may bring us news, but if she’s an enemy we shall have to up stick and run for it.”
“Not until we see how many teeth she carries,” said the captain, who overheard the remark. “Big as she is, the Good Hope may be able to tackle her.”
While we were speaking, our loftier canvas began to swell and flutter, then the topsails and courses napped against the masts, and cat’s-paws ran playfully over the water. Presently ripples were seen on all sides, and every sail swelled out. The ship gathered way, but instead of keeping before the wind, the captain ordered the maintopsail to be backed, and we lay to waiting for the stranger, while our white flag with a red-cross was run up to the peak. Hardly had it blown out than the approaching ship showed her colours, and the design of a crescent moon proved that she was Turkish, or belonged to Tunis, Tripoli, or some other of the Barbary States.
“My lads,” cried Lancelot, “we shall probably have to fight yonder ship if she proves what I suppose her to be. If we capture her we shall obtain a rich prize. If she takes us, we shall have our throats cut, or be carried into slavery.”
“We will fight her, and beat her,” cried the men, and they gave utterance to a loud cheer.
“Brace round the main-yard, then,” cried the captain, and the ship stood on close-hauled, ready to tack, so that if possible we might gain the weather-gauge. The stranger seeing this altered her course, in order to prevent our doing what we proposed. At length, finding that we could not gain the advantage we wished, we ran under her lee, and Lancelot in a loud tone ordered her to strike to the Commonwealth of England.
As a haughty refusal was the answer, we opened fire, hoping to knock away a mast or some of her spars, and thus be able to gain the position we desired; but the corsair, for such the stranger undoubtedly was, replied with a broadside of upwards of twenty guns, the shot from which passing between our masts, did no further damage than cutting away some of our running rigging.
We now stood on yard-arm to yard-arm, firing our guns as rapidly as they could be run in and loaded. Our enemies meantime were not idle, and their shot came crashing pretty thickly on board. Two of our men were killed and others wounded. But we judged that we were committing more damage than we received. Many of our shots went through and through the corsair’s sides, others swept her decks and killed several of her crew. Still, from her superior size and greater number of guns, it was