“It’s surprising that the pirates in the boats don’t fire on us,” observed Bowse. “They must see us clearly enough to take good aim at this distance. I suspect they have no fire-arms with them.”
“Depend on it, they are not without them,” replied Captain Vassilato. “His rifle was the first thing every man snatched up, as he left his hut and sprang on deck to jump into his boat. No, no, they make sure of coming up to us, and anticipate too much satisfaction in cutting our throats, to throw away a shot on us.”
“They would be less chary of their powder if they knew how short a distance our friends are from us,” said Fleetwood.
It occurred to him, also, that probably Zappa himself was on board one of the boats, and that he would not fire for fear of injuring Ada; for, judging from his own feelings, he had from the first, thought, and justly too, that the pirate was influenced to carry her off, more by his admiration of her than for the sake of her ransom, and this caused him still more anguish, when he saw the probability of her again falling into his power.
“I think there is a slight air springing up from the eastward, sir,” said Jack Raby, as he sat down again to steer. “I wish we had a sail to drive her on faster.”
“I fear, indeed, that there is a breeze getting up,” said Fleetwood, in a tone which ill concealed the apprehensions he felt. “The other boats, however, may not have sails. They must all have come off in a great hurry.”
“I see something which has a sail, though,” exclaimed Bowse. “The rascals have towed out one of their cursed misticos, and we shall have her after us presently. I see her white canvas, even now, gleaming in the moon-light. She does not feel the breeze yet, for there is a little northerly in it, and the cliffs becalm her.”
“I fear you are right, Bowse,” said Fleetwood. “I have just now, also, caught a glimpse of her; but the breeze is still very light, and will not send her faster through the water than the boats can pull, so we need not fear her, I hope. It convinces me, also, that the boats have no sails; but that they believe we have, and might, if the wind increases, get away from them. Courage, my friends, we must not despair.”
“We may give them a tough job to take us, sir, even if they come up with us,” exclaimed the young midshipman, glancing over the boats, which were clearly overhauling them. “There are five of us,”—he reckoned himself a man in strength, as he was in courage—“and, with arms in our hands, we may thrash a few dozen rascally pirates, any day. But it may be as well to sing out again, and let our friends know our whereabouts.”
He jumped up as he said this, and shouted at the top of his voice; but no hail was heard in return; and it now became too probable that, owing to the calm which had prevailed all day, the Ione had been delayed, and that her boats had not reached their station; for, otherwise, as Fleetwood suggested, they would most certainly have pulled towards them directly they heard the guns of the Sea Hawk. Again and again Jack Raby hailed, with the same result; and it now became very certain that they must not depend on the speedy assistance of their friends. To say that Fleetwood’s heart sank within him, as this circumstance became evident, would be wrong; at the same time that he saw clearly the very great danger to which he and those with him were exposed.