“Too true, Sir Henry,” observed the brave Captain of the packet, who stood on deck surrounded by the passengers, many of them asking all sorts of useless questions. His countenance showed how distressed he was. “In this case I fear discretion will form the best part of valour.”
Captain Jones cast anxious glances aloft, as well he might, and the midshipmen and True Blue eyed the frigate; and Nott turned to his messmate and said, in a doubting tone, “Elmore, what do you think of it?”
The other answered sadly. “There is no doubt of it. She is coming up hand over hand with us. Freeborn, I am afraid that I am right.”
“Yes, sir,” answered True Blue, touching his hat. “She is going nearly ten knots to our six.”
“Then she will be up with us within a couple of hours at most,” said the young midshipman with a deep-drawn sigh.
The breeze kept freshening rapidly. The brig carried on, however, till her royal masts went over the side, and her topgallant-masts would have followed had the sails not been handed in time; and now all expectation of escape was abandoned.
Still Captain Jones held on his course, remarking, “It will be time enough to heave-to when her shot comes aboard us.”
The crew went below and put on their clean things and a double allowance of clothing, as well as all their possessions which they could stow away in their pockets. When they returned on deck, they certainly did look, as Johnny Nott observed, “a remarkably stout set of Britons.”
Sir Henry borrowed a midshipman’s hat and dirk, as he had lost his own; and Nott, who had a few sovereigns in his pocket,—a wonderful sum for a midshipman,—divided them with him. The Captain insisted, as the last act of his authority, that all the passengers should remain below, during which time the ladies, at all events, employed themselves in imitating the example of the sailors.
At last a shot was heard; then another and another followed, and then a whole volley of musketry.