The frigate did not remain long at Guernsey, but, with the rest of the
squadron, put to sea. She soon separated from them, and stood down
Channel to extend her cruise to the distance of a couple of hundred
leagues or so to the westward of Cape Clear.
As usual, she was very successful and picked up several prizes. Among
the prizes were three large merchantmen and two privateers. The latter,
especially, required a considerable number of men to take them home.
Captain Garland was unwilling thus to weaken his crew, and yet the
prizes were too valuable to abandon. These vessels had just been
despatched when a brig was descried from the masthead. Chase was given.
She was a fast vessel and well handled, but before night she was come
up with. When her Captain saw that he had no longer any hope of escape,
he, like a wise man, hove to and hauled down his colours.
She proved to be _La Sybille_, a French letter of marque, carrying eight
guns, twenty-five men, and bound for the French West India Islands with
a valuable cargo. The prisoners, with the exception of four, three
white men and a black, who were left on board to assist in working her,
were removed to the frigate; and Captain Garland, who could not spare
any more lieutenants or mates, sent a midshipman and prize crew to take
charge of her.
The midshipman's name was Nott. He was generally called in the mess
Johnny Nott. He was as short as his name, but he was a brave, dashing
little fellow; but though he had been some time at sea, being very idle,
his navigation, at all events, was not as first-rate as he managed to
make it appear that it was when he had the honour of dining with his
Captain. Captain Garland sent for him and told him that he would spare
him two men and a couple of boys, and he expected that with them and the
prisoners he would be able to carry the brig safe into Falmouth or
Plymouth.
"I shall send one of the quartermasters with you, Pringle. He is a
steady man; and you shall have Marline and Freeborn, who is as good as a
man, and the boy Hartland: he is steady."
"May I have Fid, sir, also?" put in Nott, who was always free-spoken and
wonderfully at ease with his Captain. "He is such an amusing young dog.
He'll keep the rest alive by his jokes, if he does nothing else."
"You may take him, Mr Nott; but take care that they don't get to
skylarking and fall overboard," said the Captain.
"Oh no, sir," answered the midshipman; "I'll maintain the strictest
discipline, and hope to have the brig safe in harbour in the course of a
few days."
Captain Garland smiled at the air with which Johnny Nott spoke, and,
shaking him by the hand, sincerely wished him a prosperous passage.
Meantime the first lieutenant had sent for Paul Pringle, and, knowing
how thoroughly he could be trusted, had given him his instructions to
look after Mr Nott--in other words, to act as his dry-nurse.
"I need not tell you how to behave, Pringle," observed the lieutenant.
"You must advise him when to shorten sail, and what to do, indeed, under
any emergency; and let him, as much as possible, suppose that he is
following his own ideas."
"Ay, ay, sir," answered Paul, not a little flattered. "I know pretty
well how to speak to most of the young gentlemen; I always leave them to
fancy that they are telling me what to do. Most young gentlemen
nowadays are fond of `teaching their grandmothers to suck eggs,' and I
never stop them when they like to do it."
"All right, then, Pringle," answered Mr Brine; "we understand each
other clearly. Keep order among the boys, and have an eye on the
prisoners."
All arrangements being made, Mr Nott, with his quadrant, book of
navigation, and his crew, went on board the prize and took charge of
her, instead of the officer who had boarded her when she was captured.
Scarcely had he got on board and made sail than a large ship was seen to
the southwest. The frigate signalled the brig to continue on her
course, and then stood away in chase of the stranger. Johnny Nott would
much have liked to have gone too, for he could not help fancying that
the stranger was an enemy, and if so, he knew full well that whatever
her size, even should she happen to be a line-of-battle ship, his
Captain would very likely bring her to action. Though he dared not
follow her, he waited till he guessed that no one on board would be
paying him any attention, and then, having persuaded himself that there
would be no harm in so doing, hove the brig to, that he might have a
better chance of ascertaining what might happen.
He then ordered True Blue to the masthead to watch the proceedings of
the stranger. The wind was about north-west; the stranger was steering
about east, and had apparently come from the southward. In a little
time Billy hailed that she had brailed up her courses.
"Then, sir," observed Paul, "depend on it she is an enemy."
"I wonder what size she is? What do you think, Pringle?" asked the
midshipman.
"Freeborn can tell better than any of us," was the reply; and on Billy
being hailed, he reported her a heavy frigate or a fifty-gun ship.
"I only hope our bright _Ruby_ won't find that she has caught a Tartar,
then," said Johnny Nott. "I don't think that we could be of much use if
we were to go and try and help."
"Never fear, sir," observed Paul; "our Captain will know how to tackle
with her, whatever she is."
While this conversation was going forward, True Blue hailed that the
frigate was again making signals, and on Johnny Nott referring to his
book he discovered that it was a reprimand ordering him to make all sail
to the eastward. Had he persevered in remaining hove to, he would have
been guilty of an act of insubordination, and most reluctantly,
therefore, he made sail and stood on his proper course.
When daylight returned the next morning the frigate was nowhere to be
seen, and _La Sybille_ continued her solitary course towards England.
The Frenchmen had hitherto behaved in a perfectly orderly, quiet manner,
and obeyed cheerfully the orders issued to them. No change, indeed, was
exhibited towards their English captors; but they soon began to quarrel
among themselves, and were constantly fighting and disputing. If they
did not actually proceed to blows, they appeared every instant as if
about to do so. Their conduct was reported to Mr Nott.
"No great harm in that," he remarked. "If they are quarrelling among
themselves, they are less likely to combine to play us any tricks."
Not many hours had passed before, while he was below, one of the
Frenchmen was left at the helm, and True Blue, who was forward, saw
another come up on deck, and, with a capstan-bar in his hand, make a
blow, so it seemed, at the helmsman's head. He missed it, however, and
the bar, descending with full force on the binnacle, smashed it and the
compasses within it to pieces. Billy remarked the men. There was a
great deal of jabbering, vociferation, and action, but neither of them
struck or hurt the other.
As he watched them an idea occurred to him. "I don't think those
fellows did that by chance," he said to himself. "I will keep an eye on
them."
The noise brought Mr Nott and Paul Pringle on deck.
"A pretty mess you have made, Messieurs," observed the midshipman, who
spoke a sufficient amount of bad French to make himself perfectly
understood by them, and this was one of the reasons why he had been
selected to command the brig. "If I was to give you four dozen each, or
put you in irons, or stop your grog, you'd only get what you deserve.
Now, go and find another compass and put the binnacle to rights. You
Frenchmen are handy at that sort of thing."
The men slunk off as if very much ashamed of themselves, and Paul
Pringle took the helm. True Blue, however, watched them, and he was
certain that there was a laugh in their eyes, giving evidence that they
were well content with what they had done. When they went below also,
they seemed to be on perfectly good terms with each other.
On search being made, no compass whatever was to be found.
"I thought that I had observed, when I first came on board, a spare
compass and boat compass," observed Mr Nott.
But the Frenchmen, on being interrogated, all declared that they were
not aware that there were any others, and said that if there were, they
were private property, and that the Captain had taken them with him.
The other Frenchmen appeared to be very angry at what their countrymen
had done, and did their best to ingratiate themselves with Mr Nott.
The difficulty was now to know how to steer. The midshipman's knowledge
of navigation was put to a severe test. While the sky was clear, either
by night or by day, it was tolerably easy to steer more or less to the
eastward; but whether they should hit the chops of the Channel or run on
shore on the coast of Ireland or France, or the Scilly Islands, it was
impossible to say.
"We must do our best, sir, and trust in Providence," observed Paul
Pringle to the young officer. "Only there's one thing I'd do--I'd
rather steer to the nor'ard than the south'ard of our course, so as to
avoid the chance of running ashore on the Frenchman's coast. Of all the
places I should hate most it would be a French prison."
True Blue was certainly not of a suspicious disposition, but he could
not help watching the Frenchmen. He whispered his ideas also to Harry
and Tim Fid, who agreed to keep a watchful eye on the prisoners. Little
did the Frenchmen think how narrowly all their proceedings were noted.
Fid soon remarked that when either of the Frenchmen was at the helm, one
of the others was constantly going to a chest in the forepeak and
looking steadily into it. His curiosity was therefore aroused to
ascertain what it was they went to look at. He reflected how he could
discover this without being seen.
Some of the crew slept in the bunks or standing bed-places arranged
along the sides of the vessel, but others in hammocks. The hammocks
were, however, not sent up on deck every day as they are on board of a
man-of-war. One of these hung over the Frenchmen's chests, and into it
Tim stowed himself away, making the lower surface smooth with the
blankets, so that the form of his body should not be observed. A slight
slit in the canvas enabled him to breathe and to look down below him.
Poor Fid had to watch a considerable time, however, and felt sadly
cramped and almost stifled without being the wiser for all the trouble
he had taken. The Frenchmen were there; but first Tom Marline came
below, and then Hartland, and then the black; and the Frenchmen sat on
the lockers cutting out beef bones into various shapes and polishing
them.
At last all but one man went on deck, and then he jumped up, and
instantly going to the chest opened it; and then Tim saw clearly a
compass, and, moreover, that the brig was steering a course considerably
to the southward of east. The Frenchman then put his head up through
the fore-hatchway, took a look round, and then, again diving into the
forepeak, had another glance at the compass.
"That's it," thought Tim; "True Blue is right. The Frenchmen intend to
run us near their own coast and then rise on us, or they hope to fall in
with one of their own cruisers and be retaken. Small blame to them."
The thread of his soliloquy was interrupted by his observing the
Frenchman go to a chest on the opposite side, which, when opened, he saw
was full of arms, cutlasses, long knives, and pistols. The man sat down
by the side of it, and deliberately began to load one after the other,
and then to arrange the knives and dirks, so that they could in an
instant be drawn out for use.
"Ho, ho!" thought Tim; "that's your plan, is it? Two can play at that
game, we will show you!"
Fid was now very anxious to get out of his hiding-place, and to go and
tell True Blue what he had seen. The Frenchman, however, after he had
made all his arrangements, put a brace of pistols into his pocket and
stuck a dirk into his belt, concealed by his jacket, sat down on a
locker, and, with the greatest apparent unconcern, pursued his usual
occupation of bone-cutting.
Fid grew more and more impatient. He waited some time longer, then he
saw the man prick up his ears and listen eagerly. Presently there was
the sound of a scuffle on deck. The Frenchman sprang up the ladder
through the fore-hatch-way. As he did so a key fell from his pocket.
The moment he was gone, Fid jumped out of his hiding-place, picked up
the key, applied it to the chest which contained the arms--the lid flew
open. He drew out several brace of pistols and a bundle of dirks. He
stuck as many of both into his belt and pockets as he could carry, and
hid the others in the hammock in which he had been concealed, while the
key he also hid away. All was done as quick as lightning. Then, with a
pistol in one hand and a dirk in the other, he followed the Frenchman up
the hatchway.
As he did so he chanced to cast his eye aloft, when he saw True Blue in
the fore-rigging. He signed to him to come on deck. Billy saw him, and
slid down rapidly by the foretop-mast-stay. On looking aft they saw
Hartland and Mr Nott stretched on the deck, apparently lifeless, while
the three Frenchmen, with the black, were making a furious attack on Tom
Marline, who had the helm, while Paul Pringle stood by defending him
with a boat's stretcher. Neither Pringle nor Marline had arms, while
two of the Frenchmen and the black had dirks, and the third Frenchman,
as Fid knew, had pistols. Fid immediately handed a brace of pistols and
a dirk to True Blue, and together they rushed aft. Paul saw them
coming, but the Frenchmen did not. One of them had cocked his pistol,
and was taking a deliberate aim at Paul, when True Blue, who at that
instant had reached the quarterdeck, lifted his arm and fired.
The Frenchman staggered a few paces, fired his pistol in the air, and
then fell to the deck. To prevent his companions from seizing his
weapons, Fid drew them from his pocket and bolted off with them round
the deck. Before, however, the smoke of the pistol which True Blue had
fired had cleared off, he had sprung to the side of Paul Pringle and
handed him the remaining pistol and a dirk. Paul on this sprang on the
Frenchmen.
The black was the first to fly. The other two men, finding themselves
clearly overmatched, retreated forward and gained the fore-hatchway. It
was blowing fresh, so that Marline was afraid if he left the wheel the
brig would broach to. Consequently only Paul and True Blue pursued the
Frenchmen. One of them leaped down the fore-hatchway. As he did so a
pistol-shot was heard, and Fid immediately afterwards appeared at the
same place, exclaiming:
"I've done for the fellow--settle the other two!"
Fid held a pistol in his hand. The black saw it, and sprang at the boy
to seize it; but True Blue, who saw it also, was too quick for him, and
had got hold of it just before the negro reached the spot. Fid sprang
out of his way; and so eager had he been, that he pitched head-forward
down the hatchway.
The last Frenchman attempted to defend himself; but when he saw Paul and
the two lads with arms in their hands approaching him, while his
companions were unable to assist him, he knew that resistance was
useless and cried out for quarter.
"You don't deserve it, Monsieur Crapaud," answered Paul; "but I'm not
the fellow to take a man's life in cold blood. Howsomdever, there's one
thing I'll take, and that is, good care you don't attempt to play us
such a trick again. Here, Billy, hand me that coil of rope. We'll keep
him out of harm for the present."
Saying this, while True Blue stood by presenting a pistol at the
prisoner's head, Paul proceeded to lash his arms and legs, and to secure
him to one of the guns.
"Well done, mate!" exclaimed Tom Marline from aft. "And now just come
and have a look at Mr Nott. I think that he's coming to."
"And I do hope that Harry isn't killed either!" cried Fid. "He's
breathing, and that's more than dead men can do."
In a little time both Mr Midshipman Nott and the boy Hartland came to
themselves, and sat up rubbing their eyes, as if trying to understand
what had occurred. The moment the truth flashed on Mr Nott's mind, he
sprang to his feet, and, seizing a stretcher, the nearest weapon he
could lay hold of, stood on the defensive, looking about for an enemy.
He was much relieved in his mind when he saw one of the Frenchmen lying
not far off dead on the deck, and another sitting bound, where Paul and
True Blue had placed him, between the guns.
"What! have we come off victorious in the struggle?" he exclaimed,
turning to Marline.
"Yes, sir," answered the seaman, "we've been and drubbed the Monsieurs;
but there are still two on 'em below kicking up a bobbery. If you'll
take the helm, sir, I'll go and help Pringle to make them fast."
"No, no," answered the midshipman somewhat indignantly, as if his
courage or strength had been called in question. "I can do that. You
stay at the helm."
When the Frenchman and the black had jumped down into the forepeak, Tim
Fid had very wisely clapped the hatch on, so that they were left in
darkness, and were also unable to return again on deck. Pringle was on
the point of taking off the hatch to secure the two men when the
midshipman got forward.
"Very glad, sir, to see you all to rights," said Paul, looking up. "I
suppose that you'll wish us to get hold of the two fellows down below?"
"By all means. I'll hail them and advise them to surrender at
discretion."
The hatch was taken off, and Mr Nott explained, as well as his limited
knowledge of French would allow, that all their chance of success was
gone. Only the black man answered. Mr Nott ordered him to come up.
"_L'autre est mort_," (the other is dead), said he as he made his
appearance, looking very much frightened.
"He is as treacherous as the rest; it will not do to let him be at
liberty," said Mr Nott. "It was he who knocked me down and began the
mutiny."
The black was accordingly lashed to a gun on the opposite side of the
deck, facing his companion.
On going below they found that the Frenchman whom Fid had shot was not
dead, having only been stunned by the fall. He would, however, very
shortly have bled to death had they not bound up his wound. In mercy to
the poor wretch, they placed him in a bunk, but did not tell him that
either of his companions had escaped.
"Ah, I deserve my fate!" he observed to Mr Nott. "Had we succeeded, we
should have thrown you all overboard and carried the vessel into a
French port. There is a large sum of money on board stowed away below
the after-lockers. It escaped the vigilance of the officers who
examined the vessel. We knew of it, and for its sake we intended to get
rid of you, that we might obtain possession of the whole."
"Much obliged for your kind intentions," answered Johnny, laughing.
"The dollars we'll look after, and you will consider yourself a prisoner
in your berth till I give you leave to get out of it. If you put your
head above the hatchway, you'll be shot. That is an understood thing
between us."
The Frenchman could only make a grimace as a sign of his acquiescence.
"I'm in earnest, remember!" said Mr Nott as he climbed up the ladder on
deck.
Fid now reported all that he had done, and he and True Blue received the
praise from their young commander which they so fully merited. The
compass was got up on deck and shipped in the binnacle, and the arms
were carried aft and placed in the cabin. The other chests belonging to
the Frenchmen were broken open; but nothing particular was found in
them.
When all these arrangements were made, the officer and his small crew
assembled on deck to hold a council of war.
"The first thing we had better do, sir, is to shorten sail, seeing how
shorthanded we are," observed Paul Pringle. "We couldn't do it in a
hurry, and if it comes on to blow, our spars and sails may be carried
away before we know where we are."
This advice was too good to be neglected. "Then, sir, as these
Frenchmen have been steering to the southward and east whenever they
have had the helm, oughtn't we to steer so much to the nor'ard to make
up for the distance we have run out of our course?" observed True Blue
with much modesty.
"Capital idea, Freeborn!" exclaimed the midshipman with a patronising
air. "You've a very good notion of navigation; we'll do it."
Mr Nott now took the helm, while the crew went aloft to furl the
lighter canvas and to take a reef in the topsails. While True Blue was
on his way up to hand the main-royal, his eye fell on a vessel following
directly in the wake of the brig, which might have been seen long before
had not they all been so fully occupied. He hailed Mr Nott and pointed
her out.
The midshipman, who, from being at the helm, could not at the same time
take a steady look at her, inquired what she was like. "A schooner,
sir, with a wide spread of canvas," answered True Blue. "She seems to
be coming up fast with us."
"All hands come down on deck!" shouted Mr Nott. He then asked Paul
what he thought of the stranger.
"She does not look like an English craft, and may be an enemy--a
privateer probably," was the answer. "I suppose, sir, you'll think fit
to hold on and try and get away from her?" continued Paul. "It will
soon be growing dark, and if the weather becomes thick, as it promises
to do, we may alter our course without being discovered."
"Yes, exactly--that is just my idea," observed Mr Nott. "We could not
have hit upon a better."
The sail was consequently not taken off the brig, which, under other
circumstances, it ought to have been; and on she stood, the breeze
gradually increasing, and the weather becoming more and more unsettled.
Mr Nott watched the schooner. It was very clear that she was gaining
on the brig.
"It is very probable that we shall have to fight, after all," he said to
himself. "So, as the Captain always makes a speech to the crew before a
battle is begun, I think I ought to do so."
Accordingly, calling all hands aft, he cleared his throat and began.
"My lads," he said, imitating as well as he could the tone and manner of
Captain Garland, "we shall very likely have to fight that fellow astern
of us. You'll do your duty like true Britons, I know you will--you
always do. We will take her if we can. If not, we'll try to get away
from her; but if we cannot do either, we'll blow up the brig and go down
with our colours flying. I don't think that it matters much which.
Both are equally glorious modes of proceeding."
True Blue was very much taken with the speech, and told Harry Hartland
that it was just what he thought they ought to do; but Tim Fid said that
he hadn't made up his mind which he should prefer. Blowing up was very
fine to look at, but going down must be a very disagreeable sensation.
Paul, meantime, took off his hat to reply. "As you wish it, Mr Nott,
we'll fight the brig to the last, and maybe we shall knock away some of
her spars and get off. I don't think we shall have much chance of
taking her, and as to blowing up or going down with our colours flying,
if the enemy send their shot through her sides, between wind and water,
and won't take us on board, we can't help ourselves; but perhaps, sir,
you'll just think over the matter about blowing up. It would be like
throwing our best chance away. I for one don't wish to see the inside
of a French prison; but you know, sir, even if we are taken, we may have
a chance of being retaken before we get into a French port, or of
escaping even when we are there. Now, if we blow ourselves up into the
air, we shall have no chance of either."
"Very true, Pringle, very true," answered the midshipman; "I did not
think of that. Well, we won't blow ourselves up; and if we find our
brig sinking, we'll strike our flag and yield. There'll be no dishonour
in doing that, I hope. Several brave officers have been obliged to
strike to a superior force at times; so it will be all proper, but it's
what the Frenchmen are more accustomed to do than we are."
There was no sun visible, so Mr Nott looked at his watch and found that
there would be scarcely more than an hour of daylight.
"If we can but keep ahead, we shall do," he remarked.
Paul agreed with him in this, but suggested that, by cutting away the
stern-boat, and by making two temporary ports in her stern, they might
fight a couple of long brass guns which they had found on board. This
idea was immediately adopted, and all hands set to work to get the guns
and tackle ready, while Paul, with an axe, soon made the required ports.
He was not very particular as to their appearance. With the aid of the
timber-heads, there were already a sufficient number of ringbolts to
enable them to work the tackles.
All this time the schooner was gaining on them. Scarcely were these two
guns fitted and loaded than the schooner yawed, and a shot came skipping
along the water and disappeared close under their counter.
"Not badly aimed," observed True Blue, "but the range is too great.
Paul, don't you think that these long guns would carry farther?"
"Wait a bit, Billy," answered Paul; "we haven't much powder or many shot
to spare. We won't throw away either till she gets a little nearer.
Then you shall have it all your own way."
True Blue, with this promise, was eager for the Frenchman to get nearer.
There had been no doubt that such the stranger was. Her own colours
could not be seen; but, to make sure, Mr Nott first hoisted a French
flag. No notice was taken of this. Then he hoisted the English ensign
over the French, and immediately the stranger yawed and fired a
bow-chaser.
"You'd think it well to mystify them a little, sir," observed Paul. "We
should do that if we hoisted the French flag over the English."
This was done, and for some time no other shot was fired. Still the
stranger seemed to be not altogether satisfied. The breeze was
freshening all this time, and at length it became evident that the brig
was carrying much more canvas than was necessary, unless she was trying
to get away from the schooner. The stranger seemed to think so, at all
events, and without yawing fired a shot as a signal to the chase to
heave-to.
This was what no one but the prisoners had the slightest wish to do; and
so, as it was now getting dark, both flags were hauled down and not
again hoisted.
"Now, Billy," said Paul, "let us see, my boy, what you can do."
True Blue was in his glory. He had a gun almost entirely to himself.
Tim Fid acted the part of powder-monkey; while he and Hartland had
charge of one gun, and Mr Nott, helped by Paul, worked the other.
Paul, indeed, stepped from gun to gun as his services were required.
Now they set to work in right earnest and began to blaze away as hard as
they could, while Tom Marline stood at the helm and steered the flying
brig. He had no easy work either, for, with the immense press of canvas
she had on her and the strong breeze, it was with difficulty he could
keep her on her course.
True Blue was delighted to find that his shot, at all events, reached
the enemy.
"Paul, Paul, that shot hit her bows--I saw the splinters fly from them!"
he exclaimed while he and Harry were again loading.
"All right," answered Paul, who likewise saw the effect of the shot.
"Keep on like that, and you'll soon bring down some of the chap's
spars."
Meantime, Mr Nott was working away manfully with his gun. He felt
rather vexed to think that a ship's boy was a better shot than himself;
only just then, as he wished to preserve the brig, he was thankful to
any one who could aid in accomplishing that object. Now and then the
schooner fired; but as at each time, in order to do so, she had to yaw
and then keep away, she fired much less frequently than the brig. The
Frenchmen probably also judged that, as they were rapidly coming up with
the chase, it was not worth while to throw their shot away. As the
darkness increased, the wind got up more and more, and so did the sea,
and all around looked very gloomy and threatening.
"We must shorten sail, sir!" exclaimed Tom Marline at last, who had been
looking up ever and anon at the bending, quivering spars.
"Never mind, my man," said Johnny Nott with the greatest coolness, "the
brig will do that for herself better than we can. We have enough to do
just now to try and wing the enemy."
There seemed a fair chance of their doing this. The guns were
excellent, and True Blue's gunnery was first-rate. But as the brig
tumbled about and pitched more and more, he found greater difficulty in
taking aim. Still he persevered, and so did Mr Nott; and as it was far
too dark for them to see the effects of their shot, they both hoped that
they were doing a great deal of damage. One thing concerned Paul
exceedingly. He feared that, the instant they hauled their wind and got
out of their previous course, the masts would go over the side.
Still True Blue, regardless of everything else, kept firing away as fast
as ever. What did he care what might happen besides just then? There
was a fine brass gun he had been ordered to serve, and there was the
enemy. The scud was flying rapidly overhead, the wind howled, the
thunder roared, and flash after flash burst forth from the sky, mocking
the tiny light of the British guns. The whole ocean was of a dark slaty
hue, with white, hissing, foaming crests dancing up as far as the eye
could reach, while many came hissing up and almost leaped on board. The
brig went tearing along, her masts bending and writhing as if they were
about to be torn out of her. Suddenly there was a terrific crash, and
both the tall masts leant over and went by the board. Fortunately they
fell forward and none of the party was hurt.
"Well, we have shortened sail with a vengeance!" cried the midshipman,
even at that moment unable to restrain a joke, though he felt in no
joking mood. "Never mind the guns now. Let us clear the wreck.
Perhaps the Frenchman may pass us in the dark."
This was a wise thought, as it was the best thing that could be done.
With axes and knives they set energetically to work to cut the ropes
which kept the masts and spars thumping against the vessel's sides like
battering-rams.
While thus engaged, True Blue exclaimed:
"See, see!--what is that?"
All hands looked up. The dark outline of the schooner was visible
flying by them. Just then a vivid flash of lightning darted from the
sky. There was a loud crackling noise heard even amid the raging of the
rising tempest; the flame ran down the schooner's mainmast. Shrieks
reached their ears; there was a loud roar like a single clap of thunder
without an echo; the whole dark mass seemed to rise in the air, and here
and there dark spots could be seen, and splashes could be heard close to
the vessel, and for a few seconds flames burst forth from where the
schooner had been seen; but in an instant they disappeared and not a
trace of her could be discovered. The dismantled brig floated alone,
surrounded by darkness on the wild tumultuous ocean.