These matters having been settled, he explained that his purpose was to sail away as soon as the vessel could be got ready, and steer a course for England. It was needful to make haste, for the sound of the firing might have been heard on Spanish ships at sea, and even now an enemy might be making for the spot. The first thing was to inspect the vessel at the quay and see what damage had been done. He asked the two mates and Turnpenny to accompany him to the ship for this purpose. Meanwhile he suggested that the others, with the assistance of the natives, should give those who had been killed burial in the sea, and he dispatched two of the maroons to the creek where they had left Baltizar and one of their comrades in charge of the two prisoners, to acquaint them with what had happened and bring them to the fort.
Boarding the Spanish vessel, he found that the mainmast was a complete ruin; it would be necessary to replace it. This Ned Whiddon said would be no difficult matter. A couple of men could soon fell a tall and slender cedar in the woods, and though it was not advisable to spend much time in trimming it, a few hours' work would suffice to fit it for its use. Luckily the step was uninjured, and there was plenty of sound rope on board from which to form new stays.
The deck had been a good deal knocked about by the shots from the fort, but the damage done was not such as to render the vessel unnavigable as soon as the mast should be stepped and the rigging repaired. Ned Whiddon undertook to carry out the necessary work with the assistance of men of his choice, and went back to the fort with Batten to make a beginning.
Dennis and Turnpenny examined the vessel from stem to stern above and below decks. In the captain's cabin they found a number of small bags which on being opened they discovered to be full of pearls. The commandant had evidently not come empty-handed from the fort. There were also several chests containing pieces of eight, and in the hold were twenty odd jars filled with gunpowder, and more than a hundred jars of wine.
"'Tis my counsel to fling 'em overboard as soon as it be dark," said Amos. "'Tis a goodish time since my comrades have tasted strong liquor, and I fear me with such plenty they might drink until they were drunken and fit for nought. And Jan Biddle with wine in him would be no less than a madman."
"Ay. Tell me, Amos, what know you of that same loud-tongued mariner?"
"Why, sir, I know little. He do say he be an Englishman, and one time second mate on a Dutch privateer; but what be the truth of it none can say. He speaks the French and Dutch tongues as readily as English, and has suffered at the hands of the Spaniards even more than most, by reason of his unruly tongue. He is loved by none, but hath a certain power over men; and I rejoice that he is not chosen for mate aboard this vessel."
"I like not his looks. Your comrades have done wisely, I trow, in rejecting him. And now, what think you of the chances of our purposed voyage, Amos?"
"My heart! I warrant we can sail her merrily across the great ocean, and with favouring winds may hope to see the blessed shores of England in a matter of two months. And my soul hungers for the sight of the old cliffs. By the mercy of God, who hath marvellously prospered our doings, we will yet again come to haven in our dear native land."
"We will new christen her for luck, Amos. Her present name—I cannot say the words—"
"Nuestra Señora del Baria—a papist name, sir, 'Our Lady of'—I know not what. What name shall we give her?"
"What say you toMirandola? Our comrade the monkey has without doubt gotten him away to the woods, and there, mayhap, found old friends of his kind. I hold the beast in affection, Amos, and would fain keep him in remembrance."
"TheMirandolait shall be, sir; 'tis a fair sounding name, and, if I may speak my mind, befits a tight little craft somewhat better than a heathen monkey. Though i' fecks, I'd liever call her by a plainer name; yet it shall be as you say."
"And now, a matter that troubles me, Amos: what shall we do with the Spaniards our captives?"
"Be jowned if I would let the knaves trouble me. Let 'em loose afore we sail. There is much food, I doubt not, in the fort, and abundance in the woods around. The knaves will not starve; t'ud be no great loss if they did; and belike a vessel will come to this place ere many days be past, and then they can tell the tale, with raging and cursing that will harm us not a jot."
"It shall be done. And it will be well, I trow, to raze the fort to the ground. It has been built with the blood and sweat of our comrades; to destroy it will be a just reprisal."
"Ay, and make the knaves to dismantle it with their own hands. I would fain scourge their naked backs as they have scourged mine, many's the time."
"And the ordnance?"
"Burst it asunder. Why should we leave it sound to belch its shot, mayhap, on English craft some day? God-a-mercy, 'twas a famous shot of yours, sir, that sent the mainmast by the board, and I don't grudge it 'ee that your aim was truer than mine. 'Tis twenty-five year since I served the ordnance on theAnne Gallant."
"And I had good practice on theMaid Marian. But you have not forgot your cunning, Amos, and I warrant if we have occasion to use the piece here in the stern you will make good firing. Now 'tis time to return to the fort; I would not that Jan Biddle should stir up the rage of our people against those unhappy Spaniards, and 'tis not unlike, we being absent, he may do so."
"Ay, 'tis meet we trust not Jan Biddle overmuch. Let us go, sir."
They found on returning that Ned Whiddon had already gone into the forest with two or three men to fell a tree for the mast. While he was absent on this errand Dennis set part of his company to collect all the Spaniards' small arms and pile them in readiness for conveyance to the vessel, others to ram excessive charges of powder into the guns, and a third gang to superintend the Spaniards in their enforced task of dismantling the fort. Great charges of powder, of which there was an ample store, were placed in barrels in each of the round towers, to be fired at the last moment, for Dennis did not wish to risk an explosion, which must be heard many miles away, until he was on the point of sailing out on theMirandola.
The work of preparation was continued throughout the day, with brief pauses for meals. Ned Whiddon and his party toiled with such right good will that he was able to announce, at nightfall, that after a little more work in the morning the new mast would be ready for stepping. This was especially good news, for in view of the possible arrival of a Spanish vessel Dennis could not feel secure until theMirandolawas fairly out at sea. As soon as it was dark, Turnpenny and Copstone went down to the vessel, and flung overboard the whole store of wine save a few jars which they kept for emergencies. The Spaniards, of whom about thirty had survived the fight, were again shut up in the houses of the commandant and the officers, and Dennis arranged that a careful watch should be kept through the night. Then, tired out with his long labours, he gladly threw himself upon a couch in one of the towers, and slept soundly until the dawn.
In the morning, as he went round the battlements with Turnpenny to see that the guns had all been crammed with bursting charges, he was seized with a whim to preserve two of them and carry them home to England.
"Me thinks they would make rare trophies for our folks to marvel at," he said to Amos with a smile. "What say you, Amos? Would not one look exceeding well on the Hoe at Plymouth? And I think not Holles, my steward, who is keeping my little place at Shaston warm for me till I attain to man's estate,—I think not even he, puritan as he is, would find cause why one should not stand at my gates."
"A rare conceit, sir. Pray you one be the saker stolen by the knaves from theJesus; t'other might be the demi-culverin you fired so famously. They'd be good ballast aboard, moreover; pearls are of greater price than weight; and there be room enough and to spare in the hold."
With some trouble the two pieces were lowered over the battlements to the quay and hoisted aboard the vessel, where Ned Whiddon and his crew were already at work stepping the mast and overhauling the rigging. By midday Whiddon declared with pride that theMirandolawas ready for sea. A great cheer greeted the announcement. No time was lost in carrying stores, water, arms, and ammunition on board. When all was safely stowed, Dennis, with Turnpenny as interpreter, had a final interview with the commandant, to whom he made known his intention of blowing up the towers of the fort, but leaving the buildings in the centre of the enclosure intact. He said also that the native pearl-fishers, with the maroons, had elected to coast along the shore in their canoes until they reached a settlement of their own people. Being well provided with arms, they could defend themselves against pursuit even if there should be any disposition on the part of the Spaniards to attempt to capture them.
Then, one after another, the guns were fired and burst to atoms by means of long trains of powder. Last of all the charges in the towers were exploded, and as the masonry toppled and fell after each thunderous roar, the little company greeted the destruction with a storm of cheers. When Dennis and his comrades turned their backs on the place and went aboard theMirandola, they left the once stronghold a heap of ruins, amid which the Spaniards were already moving about in desolation and despair.
TheMirandolawas towed out of the little harbour by maroons and Indians in their canoes, and beat out to sea against a nor'-nor'-easterly wind. Thanks to Ned Whiddon and his comrades the bark was in capital trim, and the crew, now after many days free men afloat, were at the top of cheerfulness and jollity. The long voyage home had no terrors for them. They were all sturdy mariners, accustomed to adventure their lives on the deep. They had hardly weathered the headland to the east and stood away for the mouth of the gulf before Hugh Curder began to troll a ditty:
"Lustily, lustily, let us sail forth;The wind trim doth serve us, it blows from the north,All things we have ready, and nothing we want,To furnish our ship that rideth hereby;Victuals and weapons they be nothing scant,Like worthy mariners ourselves we will try.Lustily, oh lustily!"
"Oh, 'tis good to hear to 'ee, Hugh!" cried Turnpenny. "And I do wish we had a crowdy-kit aboard, for I mind me Tom Copstone can ply the bow, and a merry tune would set our feet a-jog. To it again, Hugh; open your thropple, man, and we'll bear our burden, every man of us."
And Hugh Curder, after "hawking and spitting," as he said, because his "wynd-pipe" was "summat scrannied for want o' use," struck up again:
"Her flags be new trimmed, set flaunting aloft——"
"Not so," interrupted Ned Whiddon. "We bean't got no flags."
"Pegs! 'tis in the ditty, Ned," cried Turnpenny. "None but a ninny-hammer would look for sober truth in a ditty. Heed him not, Hugh; to it again."
"Her flags be new trimmed, set flaunting aloft,Our ship for swift swimming, oh she doth excel;We fear no enemies, we've escaped them oft;Of all ships that swimmeth she beareth the bell.Lustily, oh lustily.
"And here is a master excelleth in skill,And our master's mate he is not to seek;And here is a boatswain will do his good will,And here is a ship-boy, we never had leak."Lustily, oh lustily."
"You be the ship-boy, Hugh, seeing you be the youngest of us," said Whiddon. "And you've a proper breast for a singing-boy."
"Now the last stanzo, Hugh," cried Turnpenny. "'If fortune then fail not,'—but my scrimpy voice murders it. Sing up, man."
"If fortune then fail not, and our next voyage prove,We will return merrily and make good cheer,And hold all together as friends linked in love,The cans shall be filled with wine, ale, and beer,Lustily, oh lustily."
"'Tis not worth a crim," growled Jan Biddle, when the song was ended. "'Wine, ale, and beer'—where is it? I'd give a week o' life for a gallon o' home-brewed."
"Ay, and what then!" said Gabriel Batten. "Sing the song of ale, Hugh."
"Back and side go bare, go bare,Both foot and hand go cold——"
"Nay, not that one; 'tis over long, and 'll make us too drouthy. Seeing we have no ale, 't'ud be cruel to sing the praises of it so feelingly. Nay, sing the ditty that serves for warning; 'twill better fit our case."
Hugh Curder began:
"Ale makes many a man to make his head have knocks;And ale makes many a man to sit in the stocks;And ale makes many a man to hang upon the gallows—"
"Oh, shut his mouth!" cried Biddle testily. "We'll all be glumping if we list to such trash. Hallo for the wind to change, for with this nor'-easter blowing we'll never get clear of the coast."
The vessel was indeed making slow progress, beating out against the strong wind. Dennis, though elected Captain, had little to do with the actual handling of the ship: in those days the captain was not always a navigator. But theMirandolawas in good hands. Both Whiddon and Batten were practised seamen, and in seamanship, as distinguished from navigation, Turnpenny was incomparable. They had found in the cabin a chart of the coast and the neighbouring sea, by means of which they avoided the shoals and made without mishap towards the mouth of the gulf. Dennis and Turnpenny examined the chart carefully to see if they could distinguish the island they had named Maiden Isle. Several small islands were marked on it as mere dots without names, and they could not for a long time decide which of them was Maiden Isle; but Turnpenny at last fixed on one of them, and his conjecture was proved to be correct in the evening. Whiddon had set the course by Turnpenny's suggestion, and just before dark the vessel skirted the south-eastern corner of the island where he and Dennis had met so strangely.
Looking at the chart, Dennis wondered how theMaid Marianhad escaped wrecking a dozen times during the hurricane that finally cast her up on the western shore. There was marked a good open channel for vessels of any draught south and south-east of the island, but, as he had guessed, the sea to the north and west was practically unnavigable except by small craft. TheMirandolagave the island a wide berth in passing; the wind was freshening, and there were signs of heavy weather. Dennis felt a little regret at leaving the island unvisited, and abandoning the relics of his friends which he had saved from the wreck; but, like every member of his party, he was eager to lose sight of this hostile coast, and to gain the wide ocean where, given good luck, they would be secure from Spanish molestation and have nothing to fear but the ordinary chances of a long voyage.
They made little headway that night. Anxious as they were to run out of the main track of Spanish commerce, they felt the necessity of choosing a safe rather than a short course, and especially of avoiding the network of reefs and islands to leeward. In the blackest hours of the night, indeed, they lay to, Turnpenny remarking that it was better to lose a little time than to run the risk of losing the vessel by a too bold navigation of unfamiliar seas.
This caution proved to be justified, for the wind shifted in the night; and when at break of day theMirandolaagain got under way they found that she had drifted dangerously near an island which, being very small, was not marked on the chart. A light haze lay over the sea, but it lifted soon, and then vast excitement was aroused on board when the look-out shouted that he descried, under the lee of the island, a vessel under full sail. Turnpenny took a long look at her, and declared that she was a bark somewhat larger than the Mirandola, though at the distance—near four miles, he thought—it was impossible to be sure.
"Of what nation is she?" asked Dennis.
"No mortal man could say," returned Amos; "but 'tis a hundred to one she be a Spaniard, and we must either fight or run."
"Think you she will see us, being so small a vessel?"
"None can tell that either. We must look to the worst. True, we have the weather-gage of her; but soon or late she will overhaul us if she gives chase. She has a look of speed, or I be no mariner. 'Tis certain we cannot fight her; our armament will not suffice; furthermore, from her size I reckon her crew be three or four times ours, and our men have no mind to be captured and cast again into a Spanish dungeon."
"We must e'en run then," said Dennis with a sigh. "That means we must put about?"
"True, and 'tis somewhat in our favour, for you perceive the wind has shifted in the night to west-sou'-west, and belike we can sail close-hauled better than she can."
Whiddon accordingly put the vessel about, and set the course so that she could keep the island between herself and the stranger. But in the course of the next hour it was clear that theMirandolahad not escaped notice. The stranger had weathered the island and was manifestly standing in pursuit. The crew of theMirandolawatched her anxiously. They were but twenty-two all told, five of them being French: and although they were all stout mariners with no lack of native courage, the remembrance of their past sufferings did not incline them to run risks. For some time it was doubtful whether the pursuing vessel was or was not gaining; but as the day wore on it became clear that theMirandolawas being outsailed.
"'Tis a piece of rare good luck we had the wind against us last night," said Turnpenny, "for in a straight chase in the open we should have no chance against the critter, whereas if we get back among these islands we may give her the slip."
"If we do not strike a reef and founder," replied Dennis.
Here Turnpenny tried a device that he had often seen practised on theAnne Gallant. He ordered two men to go up to the cross-trees with a pulley-block; they rove a line through, and, hoisting up buckets of water, saturated all the canvas. Then he put all the men on to the lee braces, and so got the vessel to lie a point nearer the wind.
The two manoeuvres considerably increased her speed, but in spite of all that seamanship could do or devise the gap between the vessels sensibly diminished; the pursuer loomed ever larger down to leeward. Then Jan Biddle began to show himself in his true colours. Dennis had noticed that the man had attached to himself a group of the wilder spirits among the crew, who with an ill grace went about the duties assigned to them by Whiddon, and upon whom, indeed, the mate called as seldom as possible. When it became clear that theMirandolawas being surely overhauled, these men were observed in close talk beneath the break of the poop. By and by Biddle swaggered forward, followed by seven or eight of his comrades, to where Whiddon and Turnpenny stood, forward of the mainmast. Batten was at the helm.
"Art mad, Ned Whiddon?" cried Biddle in a hectoring tone. "Dost think thou'rt a mariner? Crymaces! if we trust to thee we'll be laid by the heels in the hold of yonder craft ere night."
"Couldst do better, think 'ee?" asked Whiddon quietly.
"Better? Who but a slin-pole would have done as 'ee have done? There's but one way to scape out of the clutches of the Spaniards, and that is to put the helm down, come about, and run for it. This craft is better running free than close-hauled."
"Know a fool by his folly," said Turnpenny. "Rule your saucy tongue, Jan Biddle, and offer not to teach your betters."
"Who be you to talk of betters, Amos Turnpenny—a sluddering rampallian like you? An you will take no counsel we'll e'en see to the manage of the vessel ourselves. Here, comrades, this be enough of these joulter heads; let go the sheets; I will put the helm down and we'll go round on the other tack: we'll have no fools over us, to bring us to harm."
But before one of the malcontents could step forward to do his bidding, Turnpenny threw his arms around Biddle, lifted him clean off his feet, and flung him against the bulwarks, where he lay stunned.
"And I'll serve any man likewise that dares to raise his voice in mutiny. Get about, you villains, and 'ware lest you be clapped in irons and set awash in the bilge."
Dennis had hastened to Turnpenny's side at the first sign of altercation.
"When the chase is over we will deal with these fellows," he said quietly. "Meanwhile, Amos, is not that our Maiden Isle on the lewside ahead?"
"Surely it is, sir."
"Think you not 'twould serve us best to run in among the reefs thereabouts? The bark could not follow us."
"True, but we might strike and run aground any moment, and lose our vessel and our lives withal."
"Ay, but we are being surely overhauled, and meseems 'twere better to take the risk of running aground than to fall into the hands of the Spaniards. There is a chance of our threading a way through, whereas the stranger, being of greater draught, would not venture her bottom among these uncharted shoals."
"Verily 'tis a wise thought—if there be time. What think 'ee, Ned? Yonder, mark 'ee, is the isle whereon Master Hazelrig and I lived secure for a matter of weeks, with food in plenty. Think 'ee there be time to make the shallows afore the Spaniard comes within shot of us?"
"Ay, there be time enough, but I fear me we should wreck our craft."
"There be no other way, Ned. And I warrant me I could make a shift to steer a safe course inshore, because 'twas on the south side of the isle we landed from the timber ship, and there, i' fecks, be her masts—see, Ned, standing out a little above the sea."
"Then do 'ee take the helm, Haymoss, and God save us all."
Clearly the course of theMirandolawas being closely watched on the pursuing vessel, for when, tacking in obedience to the helm, she made direct for the south of the island, there came a puff of smoke from the side of the bark, and a shot plumped into the sea about two cable-lengths astern.
"'Twas over hurrisome, master don," said Turnpenny with a chuckle; "and call me a Dutchman if 'ee ever get to closer range."
He ran the little vessel cleverly inshore and steered past the wreck of the timber ship. Then it occurred to Dennis that there must be a practicable channel not far to the west, or theMaid Marianwould have gone aground in the hurricane long before she did. At his suggestion theMirandolawas kept on her course for half a mile beyond the southernmost point of the island. Then, as there was no time to take soundings, she was put before the wind, with the object of gaining the north of the island, where Dennis knew that if the pursuer drew as much water as from her size seemed likely, there was little chance of her being able to follow.
The confident bearing of Dennis and Turnpenny had a cheering influence on the crew. Even Jan Biddle, who had now recovered from his blow, and his cronies seemed no longer inclined to quarrel with the handling of the vessel. The pursuer was now out of sight, hidden by the bend of the shore. TheMirandolawas making excellent sailing before the wind, and Dennis hoped that if she could elude the Spaniard until dark, there might be a good chance of her escaping any further attentions.
The pursuer came in sight again just as theMirandolawas approaching the rocky ridge which had been a barrier to Dennis's exploration of the shore on his first day on the island. He was rejoiced to see that in wearing she had lost a little. Then a sudden idea struck him. Beyond the ridge was the entrance to the gully, and up the gully the broad pool in which theMaid Marianlay. Would not the best course after all be to play a trick on the pursuer? Why not try to run into the pool? When theMirandolahad once rounded the shoulder of the cliff she would again be almost out of sight; if she could run into the gully the pursuers would almost certainly suppose that she had fled round the northern side of the island; and safe in the pool, she might lie there until the chase had been given up. He mentioned his idea to Amos.
"Be jowned if it bean't a right merry notion," cried the mariner.
But none knew better the difficulty of steering the vessel safely into the gully. There was no time for consideration. If once she passed the entrance the vessel could not beat back again before the pursuer came within range. The slightest failure in Turnpenny's seamanship would run the bark on the rocks. But the old mariner knew the gully. With set lips and a deep indentation between his brows he stood at the helm and gave his orders to the men.
"Stand by the halliards," he cried, "and let go the moment I say the word."
It was important to have plenty of way on the vessel, for the instant she came to the headland the wind would be taken out of her canvas. Easing the helm gently over, Turnpenny called to the men to let go as the ship rounded the point; in a few moments the canvas was all taken in, and with the way on her she glided up the gully.
Within ten minutes from the time when the notion first occurred to Dennis theMirandolalay side by side with the wreck of theMaid Marianin the pool, invisible from the open sea.
"Mum's the word," said Turnpenny when the anchor had been dropped. "Muzzle your jaws for a while. Master Hazelrig and me we knows this island, and we'll mount the cliff yonder and see what the don Spaniard makes of us now."
Leaving the men to swim ashore if they chose, Dennis and Turnpenny sprang overboard, soon found their footing, and scrambled up the rocks and the cliff, keeping well under cover. When they reached the top they saw the pursuer about three miles distant. She had shortened sail, and was evidently inclined to give the coast a wider berth than theMirandolahad done. It was growing dusk when she came level with the gully, standing about a mile from the shore. Her movements for a time were erratic; clearly the people on board distrusted the waters round the island, and were somewhat perplexed as to the course taken by the fugitive. At length they decided apparently to abandon the pursuit, for she stood to windward, and the two watchers breathed again.
"God be praised!" said Turnpenny, fervently; "we have escaped out of the hands of the enemy."
"And we find ourselves once more on Maiden Isle, the which I never thought to set foot on more. I am glad of it, Amos, for now that we have a bark fit to carry us over the sea, I would fain take with us certain things that belonged to my dear comrades. They will be cherished by their sorrowing folks at home."
"True, the sight of such belongings of the dead and gone do have a morsel of comfort in it. And moreover we can take some of your stores, for though our own monkey ship be not ill provided, yet the victuals be Spanish, and 'twill make new men of our comrades to give 'em a rasher of bacon now and again."
"Ay, but why monkey ship, Amos?"
"Why, sir, I cannot put my tongue to the name your fancy gave the vessel, and to my thinking it is not to compare withAnne Gallant, andJesus, andMinion, and other craft I have served aboard, to say nothing of theSusansandBettysthat are well beknown in Plimworth Sound."
"Well, have your way. To my earsMirandolahath a pleasant sound, and it will always keep me in mind of my good friend. But 'tis time we returned to our comrades."
When they reached the entrance of the chine they found that the crew had all come ashore, save one or two who were curiously examining the wreck of theMaid Marian. They could not refrain from shouting a glad "Huzza!" when they learnt that the pursuing vessel was standing away. Jan Biddle and one of his cronies had been rummaging in Dennis's hut and sheds, finding little to reward them, however, almost everything having been transferred to Skeleton Cave. Night was drawing on apace, and though some of the crew were for setting sail in the darkness, the majority agreed with Dennis that it would be better to defer their departure until the following night. This plan would give them a whole day's rest; it would render it less likely that the pursuer would be still in the neighbourhood; and it would enable them to carry more water on board, which was desirable in view of the possibility of a protracted voyage. Dennis and Amos decided to occupy their old hut; the men were given their choice of the sheds, now all but empty, and the huts erected by the maroons near the logwood grove. They all declared for sleeping ashore rather than on board ship, Hugh Curder and Gabriel Batten, however, volunteering to remain on deck as a night watch.
Next day, after the stores and things which Dennis wished to take home had been transferred from the cave to the vessel, and several barrels of fresh water from the spring in the cliff had been placed in her hold, the men broke up into little groups and wandered about the island, revelling in their liberty and in the abundance of fruit which they could have for the picking. Several times Dennis went to the cliff top on one side and Amos on the other side of the island to scan the horizon for a sail, but neither saw any sign of one. In the afternoon Dennis ventured to sound Sir Martin's trumpet as a signal of recall, and the men came dropping back in ones and twos and threes in anticipation of departure.
The tide was at flood, and Dennis had just given the order to go aboard, when Tom Copstone suddenly exclaimed—
"Zuggers! Where be Gabriel Batten?"
"Is he not here?" asked Dennis.
"Not the ghost of him," said Amos, looking round on the company.
"He were always a ninny-hammer," cried Jan Biddle angrily. "Never did I know such a man for simples and other trash. Sure he be roaming somewheres with his nose to the ground, trying to smell out some herb that will heal a scratch or cure a distemper."
"Blow up the trumpet for en," suggested Copstone; "Gabr'el be a vitty lad—none the worse for not being made so rampageous as 'ee, Jan Biddle, for all he do go wool-gathering at whiles."
Biddle glared at the speaker, but said no more. Hugh Curder, being the man with the brazen lungs, blew a loud blast on the trumpet which set the cliffs and the chine reverberating. They waited; the wanderer must have gone far indeed if he was out of earshot of that strident blare. But as time went on, and he did not appear, Dennis began to be somewhat vexed.
"'Twas thoughtless of the man," he said; "already is the tide beginning to ebb, in two hours it will be impossible to embark this night, and that entails upon us the loss of another day."
"Embark without him," growled Biddle. "What is he that he should keep a score of good men waiting his pleasure?"
"Nay, nay," said Dennis. "We cannot leave him here. You have had your sufferings and sorrows, from the like of which God save us all; but is there a man of you that hath dwelt alone upon an island, spending nights and days without the sight of a face, or the sound of a voice? That have I done, and not willingly shall I subject a man to a like solitude. There is still a little space during which the tide will serve. Let us scatter in parties, some going this way, some that, and halloo; perchance some of us may light on our comrade."
The suggestion was adopted; only Jan Biddle and his few particular friends went about the search grudgingly. But though the men scoured the island from shore to shore, and kept up the quest to the very verge of nightfall, long after the tide had run so low that the idea of setting sail till next day had to be abandoned, they discovered no trace of the straggler, and returned weary and irritable when the trumpet recalled them.
"He may come in by and by," said Dennis cheerfully. "If not we must e'en take up the search in the morning. We shall have a whole day wherein to pursue it. Let us now get our supper and commend ourselves and our comrades to God."
"Odspitikins!" cried Jan Biddle. "What did I say! What a captain is this! Here be we, twenty-one souls, raped up here for one slummaking micher not worth a varden."
"My heart!" shouted Amos, "you were best keep a still tongue in your noddle, Jan Biddle, or with the captain's leave I'll clap 'ee in irons the instant we go aboard, and keep 'ee under hatches for a sluddering mutineer—ay, and larrap 'ee first, I warrant 'ee."
Biddle's experience of the strength of Turnpenny's arm did not encourage him to repeat his protest; but when the supper was spread on the rocks above the pool, he carried off his portion to a place apart, and nursed his wrath among a small group of his comrades who followed him. The malcontents numbered eight in all, and four of these were Frenchmen, with whom Biddle could converse freely in their own tongue.
Again they slept ashore, except the two who had been selected to keep watch on the vessel. The precaution seemed hardly necessary, for it was unlikely that a hostile ship would appear in the night; but Turnpenny had suggested that it was well to keep up the customs observed at sea. The men chosen for this night's watch were two steady fellows named William Hawk and Luke Fenton.
Dennis lay awake for some time, talking with Amos about the missing man. Though he had maintained a cheerful composure before the crew, he was in reality not a little vexed at the delay caused by the thoughtlessness of Gabriel Batten.
"Is it true, what Biddle said," he asked, "about Batten's madness for gathering simples?"
"Ay, 'tis true. He be a vitty lad, as Tom Copstone said, and a good seaman, quiet withal; but he has a maggot, and 'tis that, without a doubt, that has led him aroaming. There be a time for everything, and though I do not deny that Gabriel's skill in simples has ofttimes served us well, 'tis not to be wondered at that the men make a pucker about it."
"Well, we must find him to-morrow. We cannot sail away without him; why, there is not even a Mirandola here now to bear him company."
"Be jowned if I don't ballirag en to-morrow for his hanticks, od-rat-en!"
Dennis passed a restless night, waking often, to wonder what had become of the wanderer. He resolved to set out himself as soon as dawn broke, and take advantage of his knowledge of the island to search thoroughly. Finding himself unable to sleep again, he got up while the chine was still in darkness, and walked to the edge of the cliff overlooking the pool. In the gloom he could just see the dark form of theMaid Marian; but then he started, rubbed his eyes, looked again, and felt a shock of amazement when he realized that the other vessel was no longer there. Next moment it flashed upon him that she must have dragged her moorings and floated away on the very last of the ebb-tide, and the fact that no alarm had been given seemed to show that the watchers had fallen asleep, overcome by the sweltering heat of the tropical night.
Calling to Amos, he set off at full speed down the cliff towards the opening of the gully, narrowly escaping a serious fall in the darkness. He was much relieved to see, on rounding the shoulder of the cliff, the dark hull of the vessel in front of him. The tide was so low that it was marvellous she had floated so far without grounding, and the thought that she might strike a reef and cause further delay while repairs were made prompted a vigorous shout, to waken the neglectful watch ere it was too late. But there came no answering hail from the vessel; and fearing that, even if she did not run aground, the men on board might not have sufficient seamanship to bring her back in safety, he dived into the water and struck out in her wake.
As he did so, he heard footsteps behind him, two or three voices, and the sound of another splash. Evidently some one had followed him. TheMirandolawas moving very slowly; the motion of the tide was indeed almost imperceptible, and Dennis, being a good swimmer, soon came under her counter. Catching hold, by a happy chance as he thought, of a rope that had formed her mooring cable, he swarmed hand over hand up the side and on to the deck. But no sooner had his feet touched the planks than two figures sprang towards him, a blanket was thrown over his head, and before he could utter a sound he was flung down, gagged, and pinioned.
Even through the thick folds of the blanket Dennis was able to hear a great scuffling on board within a few seconds of his own discomfiture. Then all was still, except for the muffled tones of his captors' voices. He could not hear what they said, but it was not long before he knew from the greater motion of the vessel that they must have hoisted sail. Not for a moment did he doubt the meaning of it all. Who but Jan Biddle and his fellow malcontents would have had the daring to run off with the vessel? The man was a ruffian in looks, and Dennis had already had several evidences of his turbulent spirit. And, lying helpless and half smothered on the deck, he did not have to seek far for the motive of the act. It was not merely chagrin at being denied a rank; the man knew that there were pearls in the hold, a valuable treasure, and his treachery was prompted by cupidity. He had supposed, Dennis suspected, that as a simple mariner among the crew he would get but a small portion of the treasure when it should be divided, and persuaded some of the men to make this attempt to secure the whole. Angry as he was, Dennis could not withhold a certain admiration for the man's daring; and then he fell a-wondering why he had not been struck on the head and killed outright; a ruffian like Biddle would hardly have spared him from any feeling of compunction.
How long Dennis lay half stifled under the blanket he could not tell. Hours seemed to have passed when it was at last removed, and he could breathe freely. And there, beside him, lay Amos Turnpenny, gagged like himself. Jan Biddle and several of his comrades stood over them, grinning with malicious triumph.
"Pegs, Captain," said the man, "you do seem betoatled. Thought the vessel had broke a-loose, I reckon. And so she had—eh, comrades?"
"Ho! ho!" laughed the men, vastly appreciating their leader's joke.
"Now, we be eight, young master captain,—stout fellows, but a small crew for this vessel. You be in our power, you and Haymoss too, for all he be a rare fustilugs; and down a-hold lie Bill Hawk and Luke Fenton, that kept but a ninny-watch, to be sure. Wherefore we be twelve all told, enough for the manage of this craft. Haymoss will not be boatswain, to be sure, nor you captain; I be captain; boatswain is French Michel yonder; but 'ee can take your choice,—help to work this vessel, or walk the plank. Now I will loose your gags, and you and Haymoss can talk the matter out, and when ye've made up your minds we'll unbind 'ee, or tumble 'ee overboard, according."
Left to themselves, Dennis and Turnpenny were not long in deciding on their course of action. They were at present outnumbered; they had to accept the inevitable. Their assistance would be very valuable in the working of the vessel, and Biddle, in spite of his assured bearing, was by no means so confident in his seamanship and skill as he tried to make himself appear. After his treacherous conduct he had no reason to suppose that Turnpenny would lift a finger to make good his deficiencies; on the other hand it was not to the interest of the prisoners that the ship should come to grief through mishandling, and Biddle knew that in extremity Turnpenny's instinct of seamanship would forbid him to hold aloof.
But while Dennis and the mariner agreed that they had no choice but to accept the position with what grace they might, they resolved to bide their time for getting the vessel again under their control and returning to the island.
"My poor comrades and me be parted again," said Amos, with a sigh. "'Tis true it will not be so bad for them upon the island as 'twas for us. But there they be, and there they must bide until we can fetch 'em off."
"And mayhap the Spaniards will land before we can get back to them, and then God help the poor fellows. There is little chance we two can overpower these eight villains; we can but hope on."
Having acquainted Biddle with their decision, they were cast loose, and sat beneath the break of the poop watching their captors' attempts at navigation. The vessel had rounded the easternmost point of the island and was running before a south-south-westerly wind. But it made little progress; as the day wore on the breeze died away, and the island was still in sight as the sun gradually sank in the western sky. The mutineers cast somewhat anxious glances around, as if fearing that the comrades they had betrayed might even now find some means of following them. But as the island gradually faded into the dusk their spirits rose, and having broached one of the few jars of wine which had been left in the cabin, they began to boast of the success of their trick. Biddle even acquainted the prisoners with the manner in which it had been carried out. In the darkness they had surprised the watch on board, and cut the cable mooring the vessel to a tree at the side of the gully; then seven of them had lowered the jolly-boat and in it towed the ship past the shoulder of the cliff until the sails caught the wind and it was carried free of the shore. He told Dennis exultantly that if he had swum out three or four minutes earlier the plot would have been defeated, for only he was then on board, at the helm. But just before Dennis scrambled on board the others had clambered up by the fore chains, and his cry and plunge having been heard, there had been time to arrange for his reception.
The crescent moon, which had somewhat favoured the attack on the fort, had now increased in size, and threw a thin silvery light upon the sea. Biddle, among a little group of his comrades, was still recounting his achievement for the benefit of Dennis and Turnpenny when the look-out shouted that he spied a vessel to windward.
"What care I for a vessel to windward!" cried the man. "We'll give her the slip in the dark. I, Jan Biddle, be captain now; ay, what did Hugh Curder sing t'other day?
Here is a master excelleth in skill,And our master's mate he is not to seek.
That be Dick Rackstraw, Haymoss, a merry soul, not a glumping galliment like 'ee.
And here is a boatswain will do his good will——
not you, Haymoss; you be boatswain no longer; 'tis French Michel, a deal better man.
And here is a ship-boy——
why, hang me if we won't make a ship-boy of our noble captain, comrades. 'Tis a stripling, to be sure, and I warrant will be none the worse for a smitch o' tar on his fingers. Ees, we'll make him ship-boy, we will so. Ho! ho!
And here is a ship-boy——"
But his mirth and the gleeful shouts of the others were suddenly checked when the look-out cried that he saw a second, and then a third vessel. Biddle sprang up with an oath and ran to the taffrail. What he saw did not lessen his alarm. The three strangers were coming up on a broad front, half a mile between them. They were evidently bringing a freshening breeze with them, for they had not been visible when darkness first fell. It was clear to a mariner's eye that the bark would have to show her best sailing powers if she was to escape. She had been sailing under foresail and mainsail only, but now in frantic haste the crew, in obedience to Biddle's orders, set the topsails and the topgallants. But before the effect of this was apparent the approaching ships had crept up within gun range. It was not long in doubt whether they had seen theMirandola, and were making straight for her. A flash was seen from the bows of one of the vessels; a few seconds afterwards a muffled roar was heard.
"Blank charge!" said Turnpenny to Dennis. "'Tis a word of warning."
Biddle only shouted a defiant curse. The bark was now feeling the full force of the wind, and was making good headway. It appeared likely that, running before the wind, she could hold her own with the strangers. A minute later another gun was fired, and this time with no harmless intent, for there was a great splash in the water a little ahead of theMirandolaon the starboard side. After a short interval, a third discharge shook the air, and the mutineers raised an exultant shout when they saw the splash some distance astern. It was clear that, if the guns had been fired with the same elevation, the chase was drawing away. The dropping of a fourth and fifth shot still farther astern left no room for doubt.
"What say you now, master boatswain as was!" cried Biddle, triumphantly. "Bean't Jan Biddle as good a mariner as Haymoss Turnpenny?
Here be a master excelleth in skill."
"My heart! it be a true saying, don't halloo till 'ee be out o' the wood," said Amos, grimly.
"Zuggers! but you be a molkit, Haymoss, a molly-caudle to be sure. Go aft, Haymoss, and cuddle the ship-boy and say your prayers."
Turnpenny raised his arm to strike the insolent fellow, but Dennis whispered him to let it pass; there was nothing to be gained by a fight at the present moment, even supposing they prevailed against the odds.
Hour after hour the chase continued. The moon went down, but still the three vessels could be seen in the dim starlight. Clearly theMirandola, good sailor as she was, could not shake them off. Biddle ceased to boast; his blustering confidence was changing to dismay, for he now perceived that though he had drawn further and further away from the vessel that had fired, her consort to windward was becoming more clearly visible. He had not reckoned on so obstinate a chase; moreover, being unable to read a chart, he had no idea whither the vessel was heading. There was no chance of doubling. To alter the course would be to lose time, and allow the persistent pursuer to make up on her. She seemed indeed to be gradually decreasing the distance between them, though the other two were out of sight.
So the chase went on through the hours of darkness, and daybreak showed two vessels far astern, but the third without doubt creeping up slowly but surely. Biddle, weary with the long night's work, was in a sullen rage; the other men watched the pursuer with undisguised terror; Dennis and Turnpenny, holding themselves aloof, looked on with curiosity and something of amusement.
"Jan Biddle be no fool," said Turnpenny once. "I could not have handled the craft better myself. But 'tis not an end."
Then, when the spirits of the crew were depressed to the lowest, an early morning mist settled down upon the sea, blotting the pursuer from sight.
"Jaykle! 'tis a mercy!" cried Biddle, rousing himself.
He instantly changed the course of the vessel.
"We'll fool them this mizzly morn," he said. "Mum's the word now, comrades."
Dead silence was maintained on board, and for some hours the bark made steady headway through the mist. Dennis could not but admire the mutineer's fine recklessness. Without any sure knowledge of his bearings he held the vessel steadily to the wind, though she might at any moment strike a coral reef or even run aground on one of the innumerable islets that studded the gulf. He was bent only on escaping the dreaded grip of the Spaniards.
At length the fog began to clear, dissipated by the increasing heat of the mounting sun. The crew strained their eyes through the eddying mist, to assure themselves that the pursuer, as they hoped, had been deluded by the change of course. But they were appalled, and looked from one to another with a gasp of dismay, when they saw, less than half a league distant, a large Spanish galleon holding exactly the same course as themselves. Far down on the southern horizon another sail could be seen.
"What I'd have done myself," said Turnpenny to Dennis. "The Spanish skipper be no fool neither. When the mist came down he guessed the manoeuvres of Master Jan, and afore he was closed in by it he had time to signal the others to make off, one east, t'other sou'east, while he held on the same course, thereby making sure that we'd still be in sight of one or other of 'em when the mist lifted. Ah! lookeedesee, sir; there's a flag a-running up the galleon's forepeak. 'Tis a signal to the others to come and join the chase. Be jowned if Jan Biddle han't got to run the race all over again!"
Jan Biddle's face was the image of despairing rage when he saw how he had been outwitted. But he stuck gamely to the helm. TheMirandolawas now carrying every stitch of canvas possible; her only chance, and that but a slight one, was to fly on before the wind. Dennis was tingling with excitement. Here was the bark, cutting through the water at a spanking rate; there the larger galleon, speeding after her under press of sail, and two other vessels equally large coming up from the south. He had forgotten that he was a prisoner—forgotten everything but the fact that the implacable enemy was at his heels.
Suddenly he saw the galleon luff up in the wind, and noticed a lift of the foresail.
"Now she's at us!" cried Amos at his elbow, scarcely less excited.
From the bows of the galleon came a spout of white smoke, blown back amid the sails and rigging, and disappearing in a long wispy trail to leeward. The report of the gun followed close, and the shot plumped into the sea less than twenty yards astern.
"Be jowned if it do not put me in mind of brave doings on theAnne Gallant" said Turnpenny. "'Twas well aimed; an they get our range, 'tis heigh for our pearls and pieces of eight!"
A second shot came, falling about the same distance short of the mark. A third and fourth followed at intervals, neither hitting the vessel, each failure greeted with a yell from the crew, who seemed now to have lost their terror in the sheer excitement of the chase. On swept the gallantMirandola, showers of spray flashing over her bows, her slender masts swaying and creaking under the stress of her bellying canvas. Then a shot whistled over the masthead.
"Too high, too high!" shouted Amos. "She's got our range now, to a surety; would they but depress the gun and our cockle-shell would be shivered to splinters. Jan Biddle be a better man than I took him for; see the sinews of his arms as he grips the helm. My heart! but he be a mazy Jack to think he can 'scape that tantarabobs. Ah!"
His final exclamation was occasioned by the effect of another shot from the enemy's bow-chaser. It struck the taffrail, and cast up a huge splinter which flew straight across the poop. Next moment Jan Biddle was stretched senseless beside the helm, and the helm taking charge, the ship ran off before the wind. The crew were aghast. Biddle was their captain, but he was more; he was the soul of their enterprise. Without him they were as a flock of sheep. Not a man of them was fit to direct. Some cried out for surrendering; the bolder spirits howled them down, swearing it were better to sink with the ship than to return to the servitude from which they had but lately escaped. When Biddle fell, Amos, with the instinct of the mariner, had rushed towards the unmanned helm.
"Sir, 'tis our turn," he called to Dennis. "Let us do what we can to save this vessel, and od-rabbit the mutineers!"
He leapt to the helm, seized it in his iron grip, and brought the ship once more to the wind.
"See!" said Dennis at his side. "Yonder streak on the horizon is surely the mainland. Is not our only chance to win the coast? We cannot escape by mere sailing, but there will be shallows amid which perchance we may slip away as at Maiden Isle. Shall we not attempt it, Amos?"
"Ay, ay, sir. We'll run inshore, and methinks I know a trick will help us."
At this moment another shot fell and ploughed up the deck, striking up a shower of splinters in all directions. Again arose cries for surrender; but Dennis shouted to the frantic men:
"Amos is at the helm. Trust to him. Remember what he did at the fort. Never surrender to the dogs of Spain. We will 'scape them even yet."
At his words they plucked up heart; all they wanted was a leader; and when Turnpenny declared that land was in sight, and that he'd be jowned if he didn't cheat the don Spaniards, they answered with a cheer.
Outclassed as theMirandolawas in sailing before the wind, it occurred to Amos that she might show to better advantage in working to windward. Accordingly he altered her course a few points. The immediate effect was that the enemy gained a little, and with a broader target succeeded twice in hulling the vessel. Apparently the shots did little damage, for she still rode the waters buoyantly, and after some time, to the joy of the crew, it was seen that the gap between the two ships was sensibly widening. But now a more serious danger threatened the gallant bark. The second of the enemy's vessels, which was some distance to windward when the mist lifted, was rapidly making towards a point where she might intercept theMirandolaand drive her back towards the galleon which she had just escaped. Turnpenny's seamanship was capable of no more. To tack would have been to run into the lion's jaws; to bear up would have been equally hopeless; all he could do was to stand on, and possibly weather the vessel ahead.
He explained the difficulty to Dennis, who was still at his side. Dennis knew no trick of navigation that would meet the case; but racking his wits to find some means of helping the hardy mariner, he suddenly asked himself whether it were not possible to use one of the guns he had brought as trophies from the fort. They were big guns, quite disproportionate to so small a vessel as theMirandola. To fire them might do more damage to her than to the enemy. But it was a moment when something might well be risked, and he mentioned his idea to Turnpenny.
"Good-now, 'tis a brave notion!" cried the mariner. "Do 'ee grab the helm, sir; head her straight for the coast; Ise warrant 'ee I'll soon give the villain a mouthful of iron."
Amos rushed amidships, called all the crew about him, set some of them to rig up the tackle blocks by which the weapons had been lowered into the hold, and himself knocked off the hatch and descended. His first proceeding was to unloose William Hawk and Luke Fenton, the two men who had been surprised by the mutineers, and had since lain side by side in no enviable state of mind or body.
"Od rabbit 'ee for a brace of numskulls!" he exclaimed. "Get 'ee up and come show a leg, now."
With their assistance he slung the demi-culverin by its pomelion, and the men above hoisted it to the deck; the carriage followed, then its ammunition, and Amos set about mounting it. There was no time to lug it to the quarter-deck. Amos ordered the men to place the carriage, consisting of two "cheeks" or side-pieces held together by thick cross-pieces of wood, on the waist; then the cannon was slung on to it, the clamps were fixed over the trunnions, and a quoin was driven under the gun to prevent it from sagging towards the breech. When mounted on the fort it had not been secured by breechings, but Amos quickly made ready a length of stout rope, fastened one end to the gun, and clinched the other to ring-bolts in the vessel's side. This would check the recoil when the gun was fired.
Amos was now in his element. He had not been for nothing gunner's mate aboard theAnne Gallanttwenty-five years before. He lost no time in loading the piece with round shot; then, all being ready, he ran back to instruct Dennis how to bring the vessel round when he gave the word. He found that Biddle, who had merely been stunned by the flying splinter, was now sitting with his back against the taffrail, watching these proceedings in a sullen envy.
"The Spaniard will draw closer when we yaw, sir," said Amos, "but that we cannot help; and 'tis a mercy we are out of range of her bow-chaser."
"Is she not beyond range of our gun, Amos?"
"Nare a bit, sir. Our demi-culverin is bigger, I'se warrant, than any gun she has aboard. Point-blank her range be a hundred fathoms; but I reckon I can hit the knave at six hundred at the least. Put the helm down when I call, and then I'll send an apple aboard will be ill to digest."
He returned to the gun, and sang out to Dennis; he put the helm down, the vessel yawed, and when she lay broadside to the pursuer, Amos carefully laid the piece, aiming directly at the fore-mast. He waited till the vessel rose on the next wave, then gave the word to William Hawk, who stood by the breech with lighted match. The match was applied; there was a deafening roar, followed by a sound of rending; theMirandolaquivered from stem to stern; and through the smoke it was seen that the gun had jumped clean out of the carriage and was lying against the step of the mainmast. Amos ran to it in haste, fearing that it might have burst in the discharge. But it was uninjured. Several planks amidships had been started; the mainmast was heavily scored; and a number of round shot were rolling about the waist. Amos shouted to the men to remount the gun and sponge it out, while he ran to the side to see what the effect of the shot had been, calling to Dennis to put the helm up again and head the vessel on her former course.
The smoke had cleared away, and Amos saw that the pursuer had gained considerably, and was still coming on apparently undamaged. But a few minutes later he uttered a shout of glee. There was a bustle in the forepart of the Spanish ship; men were crowding to the gunwale; and Amos perceived that they were letting a sail down over the side.
"I hit her betwixt wind and water," he cried to Dennis. "They are letting down a sail to stop the leak. True, I aimed at the foremast, but she rose somewhat quicker than I did guess and so 'scaped with a hulling."
"But she has gained on us, Amos. The hurt she has suffered does not abate her speed."
"Truly, so it is, but I will give her another so soon as the gun is righted, and call me a joulter-head an I do not deal her such a blow that she'll tottle like a man fair buddled."
Dennis called to Luke Fenton to take the helm, while he went forward to scan the horizon for the hazy streak which he had taken, half an hour before, for the shore-line. He had barely reached the cut-water when he heard the roar of a gun and the sound of a crashing blow. For an instant the vessel's head fell off, and turning hastily he saw Jan Biddle rushing to the helm. A round shot from the enemy's bow-chaser had fallen smack upon the poop, smashing the binnacle, and killing poor Fenton instantly. Only Biddle's prompt action had saved the ship from yawing and presenting her broadside to the pursuer.
Seeing that the helm was in safe hands, Dennis turned once more and glanced anxiously towards the shore, which was now beginning to loom large to windward. Was it possible, he wondered, to reach it before he could be cut off by the second Spanish vessel? He measured the distance with his eye, and his heart sank as he perceived that, if she held her present course, the Spaniard could not fail to run across the bows of theMirandolalong before she could gain the coast. It seemed that he must choose between surrendering and fighting against heavy odds. But certainly one ship would be easier to deal with than two; might not another fortunate shot from the demi-culverin cripple the vessel in chase, and so enable theMirandolato get away from one of her pursuers? Dennis did not forget that there was still a third vessel somewhere to leeward, but she was at present out of sight.
By this time the gun had been righted and reloaded. Dennis hastened to rejoin Amos.
"Shall I take the helm again, or leave it to Biddle?" he asked.
"Fegs, I say leave it to him, and do 'ee take the match, sir. I'se warrant 'ee'd be quicker than Billy Hawk. Biddle will port the helm when I give the word; he hates you and me, but he hates the Spaniards worse."
This time the gun had been loaded with chain shot. At a hail from Amos, Biddle put the helm down, the vessel swung round, and as soon as she was broadside to the enemy Amos carefully laid the gun, loosening the quoin, and thereby elevating the muzzle, which he pointed straight for the pursuer's foremast. But the enemy was now more alert. At the first sign of theMirandolayawing the galleon began to swing round by the stern, so that the two vessels came broadside on within a few moments of each other. Those few moments gave time for Amos to resight his gun. Dennis stood ready, match in hand.
"Now!" said the mariner, as theMirandolasank on the roll while the galleon rose.
The gun spoke. Only a second or two later it seemed to the crew of theMirandolathat the end of all things must have come. With a thunderous roar the whole broadside of the enemy burst upon them. Some of the enemy's shots passed clean over the smaller vessel; her masts almost miraculously escaped harm, but her hull was struck in half a dozen places, and her long-boat splintered to atoms. And the big gun, breaking loose from its extemporized breechings, recoiled obliquely across the waist, smashed through the forecastle, and plunged with a resounding splash into the sea. Some of the men were groaning in pain; the Frenchmen were flat on their faces beseeching their saints; Dennis found himself in a heap by the break of the poop; for the moment Amos was not to be seen.
Dennis picked himself up and peered through the smoke to see whether the enemy had suffered any hurt. To his joy he saw that both the foremast and the mainmast of the galleon had been shattered. Turnpenny's shot had cut away the shrouds of the foremast, causing this to snap off, and struck the mainmast fair and square. The enemy's decks were smothered under a medley of spars and rigging; it was clear that the galleon was out of action, and already theMirandolawas rapidly drawing away. This her crew perceived, and the air was rent with a tremendous shout of triumph.
But their exultation was short-lived. Half a minute later Amos came up the hatchway and hurried aft.
"Sir, there be three terrible rents in the hull below water. I feared as much when I felt the shots strike the vessel. The galleon's masts must have fallen just as the knaves were a-firing, and so the most of her shots struck us low."
"Can we stop the leaks?"
"I fear, I fear! But we'll try."
In a few minutes a sail was lowered over the side, and at the same time two of the men ran below and tried to stop the leaks from within. But in spite of all efforts the water gained, and in the course of half an hour it was plain to all on board that the vessel must founder unless she could be run ashore in time.
While the men were still doing their best to check the inrush of the water, Dennis and Turnpenny went forward to calculate their chances.
"'Tis a good ten mile away," said Turnpenny, "and we be going slower every minute."
"True. But see, the other vessel yonder, that might have cut us off, has altered her course. She is standing to her consort's aid."
"God be praised for that, but I fear we shall be water-logged in no long time, and then she can overhaul us at her ease. In an hour we must take to the jollyboat. 'Tis a God's mercy that was not smashed up like the long-boat."
"Then we'll put our stores aboard her at once, so that we lose no time when the moment comes. And I do not give up hope, even now, of running the bark ashore."
But in half an hour it was clear that the case was hopeless. The men came running from below with the news that the water was gaining more and more rapidly; the vessel was settling down; her motion had almost ceased. And the situation was rendered the more alarming by the fact that during this half-hour the uninjured galleon, having found apparently that her consort was in no immediate danger of sinking, had again altered her course and was now in hot pursuit. It was to be a race to the shore.
The jolly-boat had already been stored with provisions, water, and a number of calivers with their ammunition. At the last moment Dennis and Turnpenny brought from below the bags of pearls from the cabin in which they had been locked. Then Dennis ordered the boat to be lowered, the crew quickly went down the side and entered her. Two of the men had been so badly hurt by the enemy's shot that they had to be lowered into the boat. Fenton was dead, so that the whole effective company now numbered only nine men. The wounded men were laid in the bows, Dennis took the tiller, and the remaining eight gave way with a will, knowing that hanging would be their mildest fate if they fell again into the enemy's hands.