“No, Mr Tompion, I have no reason to find fault with your behaviour. As far as I can judge, you showed judgment and gallantry, which, in an officer, it is all important should always be combined. And, at all events, you have got clear out of the scrape, though you certainly ran a great risk of being captured.”
“Well, sir, I am very glad you approve of what I have done,” answered Tompion. “And now, sir, if you will allow me to make a suggestion, I would keep off the island till daylight; for, not long ago, as we were pulling here, both Duff and I fancied we heard some firing off the mouth of the harbour, but we could not tell for certain, we’ve had such a din of popping in our ears all night; however, I cannot help thinking some of the party have made another attempt to escape.”
“I am afraid that there is very little chance of that,” said Saltwell. “If that villain, Zappa, does not murder them, it is more than I expect. However, we’ll stand on towards the island till daybreak, as you suggest; and now, Mr Tompion, I should think you require both rest and food, so go down below and take them. Tell Mason to give you and Mr Duff whatever he has got in the gun-room—you’ll get it quicker there than in your own berth.”
Midshipmen are proverbially hungry, and I need not say that our two young friends did ample justice to a cold round of beef, which the gun-room steward placed before them.
Saltwell had scarcely turned in when he was again roused up by Togle, the midshipman of the watch, who came to tell him that a suspicious sail was seen to the eastward. He immediately came on deck; and just in the centre of the red glow on the sky, which precedes the rising of the bright luminary of day, there appeared the tapering sails of a lateen-rigged craft, looking like the dark fin of a huge shark, just floating on the lead-coloured waters.
“She’s standing this way too, by Jove!” he exclaimed. “And give me a glass. I thought so; she’s in chase of a small boat under sail, just a-head of her Mr Togle, go aloft with a glass, and see what you can make out. I can distinguish little more than the upper leech of the sail; and were it not so calm, even that could not be seen.”
Togle hailed from aloft, to say that there was certainly a boat a-head of the stranger.
“I think that I can even make out that she has people in her, as she is much nearer us than the mistico, which keeps firing at her every now and then.”
“You are right,” said the lieutenant, as the midshipman came on deck. “She is little more than half way between us. All hands make sail! We must do our best to overhaul her first; for, though I have slight hopes on the subject, she may have some of our friends in her, trying to escape.”
Every stitch of canvas the brig could carry on a wind was now set; but the mistico stood boldly on, and it became a matter of great doubt whether or not she would have time to get hold of her prey, and escape back to port before the Ione could come up with her.