“Go on ahead, Tracy, and urge Larry to move faster,” said Mr Foley. “Do you keep your eye on his prisoner and see that he doesn’t escape.”
Gerald obeyed the order, and the seamen did their best to drag forward their captives by threats of blowing out their brains if they did not keep their feet stirring. Gerald was not mistaken as to the object of the crowd, though they had apparently intended to attack the head of his party; seeing them passing, they now came rushing on at greater speed than before.
“Stand back,” cried the lieutenant, “or we’ll fire; it will be your own fault if any of you are killed.”
No regard, however, was paid to his threats. Some of the more daring of the crowd leaped forward, springing now on one side, now on the other, under the idea of escaping the bullets which might be fired at them. The lieutenant and his two men on this had begun to flourish their cutlasses, which in such an affray would be of far more use than pistols, and serve, as before, to keep their assailants from coming to close quarters; still, as they retreated the mob advanced, and every moment threatened to make a rush, when by their superior numbers they must have succeeded in overwhelming the lieutenant and his men and rescuing their prisoners. At this juncture a loud hurrah was heard, and a fresh body of seamen came hurrying along the street. The mob no sooner saw them than the greater number scampered off to a safe distance, where they gave vent to their feelings by uttering the most fearful howls and hurling maledictions on the heads of the pressgang; but the prisoners must have seen that all hope of escape was gone, for they now quietly submitted to their fate, and when they reached the quay stepped, as ordered, into the boats.
The man whom Gerald supposed to be O’Harrall was put into his boat. “We have met before,” said Gerald, after they had pulled some little way down the river; “I wonder you don’t know me.”
“It must have been a long time ago, then, sir, for I haven’t the slightest recollection of ever having set eyes on you,” answered the man.
“What, were you never on board the Ouzel Galley?” asked Gerald.
“Never heard of her till a couple of days ago, when I saw her alongside the quay,” was the reply.
“What, don’t you know the name of Carnegan?” said Gerald.
“I may know it—but it isn’t my name,” answered the man.