Chapter Sixteen.
Home, with Promotion.
As Harry and his friend reached the deck they caught sight of a strange frigate standing towards the Triton, which was, as has already been said, off the port of Carthagena, and as they looked towards the land they observed a small vessel under all sail running in for it. That the stranger was an enemy there was no doubt, and as she was evidently as heavy a frigate as the Triton, there appeared, even should she be captured, with the Spanish squadron close at hand, little prospect of her being brought off. There was indeed a great chance that the Triton herself would not escape should she be crippled.
“The odds are against us,” observed the captain to his first lieutenant. “We must not, however, show our heels to a single frigate, and will do our best to take her before the enemy can come out to her rescue.”
“Ay, ay, sir; take her we shall, and I hope get off with her too,” was the answer.
The crew were at their quarters, stripped to the waist, waiting eagerly to begin the action. The second lieutenant being left on shore and the third being ill, Headland and Harry were doing duty in their places, though the third lieutenant came on deck when he heard of the pending action.
The stranger, which hoisted Spanish colours, and was seen to be of 34 guns, two more than the Triton, approaching within hail then hauled to the wind, on the Triton’s weather beam.
“Give her a shot!” cried the captain, “to prove her.”