On going on deck Captain O’Brien found that the corvette had slipped her cable, that the topsails were set, and that the crew were aloft loosing the other sails. Still, in spite of the wide folds of canvas which were rapidly spread on the ship, the wind was so light that she made but little way. There was yet time for a boat to come off from the shore, and Captain Thurot without hesitation made a signal as he was requested, firing a gun to draw attention. No boat however, appeared.
“Captain Thurot,” exclaimed Captain O’Brien, going up to him, “I must beg that you will send Miss Ferris and her father on shore before you leave the harbour. It would be terrible to expose her to all the risks of a battle—and that you will be engaged in one with yonder ship, I have no doubt. She is a British ship of war, and is sure to attack you when she finds out your character.”
“But I intend to avoid her if I possibly can, and if compelled to fight, I will place Miss Ferris and you two gentlemen in as safe a position as we can find on board,” said Captain Thurot.
“The safest, however, would not be satisfactory under the circumstances,” replied Captain O’Brien. Captain Thurot looked greatly annoyed.
“I know that,” he said, “but it is necessary to send the boats ahead to tow. Were I to run the risk of losing the ship, the crew, and even the officers, would mutiny—these privateersmen are difficult characters to deal with; as it is, they will be discontented at not obtaining the stores and recovering their shipmates. My first lieutenant, also, is on shore. If I send you away, I have no guarantee that the stores will be delivered, or that my people will be restored to me.”
“You shall have the word of honour of two Irish gentlemen,” answered Captain O’Brien, “that should yonder vessel not prove to be the Champion, or any other man-of-war, everything shall be arranged as you wish; the stores and men shall be sent off to you, and your first lieutenant restored, if we can find him.”
Still Captain Thurot hesitated. “You believe that ship out there to be a British sloop of war?” he asked.
“I feel almost certain that she is the Champion; that she is a large vessel of your own class, and carries eighteen guns of heavy metal; and, moreover, I believe that if you venture to engage her she will take you. If you follow my advice you will do your best to escape from her.”
While this conversation was going on, the larger boats were being lowered, and were now sent ahead to tow. There was a light air from the westward; the stranger’s courses were rising above the horizon in the south-east, just clear of Hook Tower. Could the Coquille once got out to sea, she might either by running before the wind round the south-eastern point of Ireland, or by keeping close-hauled stand along the southern coast towards Cape Clear.
“I confess that I am unwilling to part with you till the last moment,” said Captain Thurot, “but my courtesy will not allow me to detain the young lady and to expose her to the risk she would have to run. I will therefore give you my small boat, if you will take charge of her and convey Miss Ferris and her father to the shore.”