“If we have mutinous behaviour among our own crew, we shall have the Frenchmen rising upon us,” observed the lieutenant. “You must keep an eye, Voules, on those fellows, and put down that spirit of insubordination.”
“A flogging would do that lad Hargrave good,” observed Voules, “and that old smuggler richly deserves one also.”
Voules, believing that it would please Lord Reginald, kept a watchful eye on both Dick and Ben, hoping that they would give him the opportunity of reporting them.
Twice finding Dick moving slowly, as he considered about his duty, he started him with a rope’s end. Several of the other men, knowing that he was no longer under the protection of the boatswain, took the opportunity of bullying him in a variety of ways. Ben did not interfere, his object being evidently to disgust him with the service. Fortunately for Dick, however, his persecutors had no time to annoy him when below, for, fatigued with their work, the moment they turned in they fell asleep. All hands, indeed, were employed from morning until night in clearing the ship of water, getting up jurymasts and repairing the worst damages, so that there might be a chance of keeping her afloat should bad weather come on. Hitherto but little progress had been made. All the sail which the Wolf could carry was set. The prize was at length able to help herself by hoisting a small amount of canvas. A very sharp watch was kept for the appearance of any strange sail.
At length, early on the second morning, the look-out from the masthead of the Wolf shouted, “A sail in the south-west!”
The first lieutenant went aloft to have a look at her. On his return to the deck, he reported that she was a large ship, standing on a course which would soon bring her up to them. It was difficult, at that distance, to say whether she was a frigate or a line-of-battle ship.
“We must steer as we are,” observed Captain Moubray. “Whatever she is, we must fight her.”
He then hailed the prize, directing Lieutenant Jager to get all the guns he could ready for use, so that he might be able to take a part in the fight, should it be necessary. He was, however, to do his best to escape, while the Wolf engaged the stranger.
The French officers on deck eagerly watched the ship coming up. As her topsails rose above the horizon, various opinions were expressed about her. Some thought that she might be the leading ship of a French squadron; others that she was a British man-of-war. As, however, she drew nearer, no other vessels were seen astern of her. One after the other the officers went aloft, to try and discover her character. She was soon pronounced to be a seventy-four, at least. The Frenchmen became highly elated, having fully persuaded themselves that she was a French line-of-battle ship.
“Never mind, my friend,” said one of them, “you have treated us well; we hope soon to have an opportunity of showing our gratitude.”