Part 15 (2/2)

This additional spread of canvas, coupled with the fact that we were running far enough off the wind to permit of its drawing well, made a perceptible difference in our speed--quite a knot, I considered, and Bob agreed with me.

”Now, what's the next thing to be done, Harry?” inquired he, as soon as we had completed our task of s.h.i.+fting the sails. ”This is all very well as far as it goes, but yon boat is overhauling us at every stroke of the oars, and we've only _postponed_ the pleasure of an introduction to the chaps, unless the breeze happens to freshen up a trifle, of which I sees no signs just at present.”

”I've made up my mind,” I replied. ”We _must not_ be taken, Bob. I feel convinced that our lives would not be worth an hour's purchase, if we fell into the hands of that villain; but, even supposing he _were_ to stop short of murder, his malignity would doubtless prompt him to destroy the little _Lily_; and by such an act all our past efforts would be nullified, and our future success rendered extremely doubtful. We must _fight_ Robert, my man, now that we can no longer run; so let's get our gun up and rigged without further delay. By the time that we have it ready, they will be within range; and I think we may persuade them to turn back yet.”

”So be it,” replied Bob gleefully. ”I'd always rather fight than run away, Harry, lad--at least, when it's anything like a fair match; so let's rouse up the pop-gun and have a shy at 'em.”

This gun was, as I think I have mentioned before, a four-pound rifled piece, which was specially made to my order by an eminent firm. It was a most beautiful little weapon, exquisitely finished; was a breech-loader, and threw a solid shot about a mile, and a sh.e.l.l nearly half as far again. It was mounted on a swivel or pivot, which we had the means of firmly fixing to the deck.

We got it out and upon deck, and soon had it mounted and ready for service. Bob took the tiller, desiring me to work the gun, as I was not only a more practised artillerist than he, but knew also how to handle a breech-loader, and I had the knack somehow of shooting straight.

I had it loaded, and was in the act of levelling it, when Bob said, ”Suppose we was to let them chaps get a bit nearer, Hal, afore we opens fire. I've a notion that if we gets 'em well away from the brig, and well within range of our little barker there, we might give 'em such a peppering afore they could get clear of us ag'in as would sicken 'em of having any more to do with us. Perhaps it mightn't be quite onpossible to destr'y the boat altogether, and then there's seven or eight good hands wiped off the chap's books. This here ain't like a ordinary enemy, you see, lad--he's a sort of general enemy to all mankind; and the more harm we can do to _him_, the more good we'll be doing the rest of the world.”

It sounded rather like cold-blooded barbarity, this proposal of Bob's to attempt the _destruction_ instead of the _repulse_ of the boat in pursuit of us, but every word he said in support of his proposition was strictly true; and indeed some such idea had been present in my own mind, so I withheld my fire for a time.

At length, however, they were within half a mile of us, and I thought we might now fairly commence operations. I carefully levelled the piece accordingly, and desiring Bob to sit well out of the line of fire and steer as steadily as possible, I watched the heave of the cutter, and pulled the trigger-line.

The shot sped straight for the boat, but, striking the water just before it reached her, bounded dear over her and into the sea beyond. There was a shout from the people in the boat, and we could see that they stretched to their oars with doubled exertion.

”Straight as it could go, Harry, lad, but _rather_ too much elevation; try 'em again, boy, and look smart about it too, for they're giving way as if the devil was behind 'em.”

”Which he probably _is_, if they did but know it, Bob,” returned I.

”Keep cool, old man; there's no hurry; you attend to the steering of the craft, I'll undertake to cool their courage for them before they're very much older.”

”Ay, ay,” retorted Bob, ”keep cool it is; but it's getting to be rather ticklish work, lad, ain't it?”

I was too busy with the gun to reply just then, and in another moment I fired once more. This time we saw the splinters fly from the bows of the boat, and one of the oarsmen sprang from his seat and fell back into the arms of the man behind him.

There was a moment of confusion with them, and then we saw one of the men in the stern-sheets (there _were_ two of them) step along the thwarts and take the injured man's place. This looked like a fixed determination to come alongside at any price, so I this time inserted a sh.e.l.l instead of a solid shot, which I had before been firing.

Once more, after a very careful aim, the little piece rang out, and again the shot reached its mark; this time with terrible effect, for the sh.e.l.l exploded as it pa.s.sed through the boat's thin planking, and the fragments, continuing their flight forward, told so severely, among the crew that it appeared as if they were _all_ more or less hurt. We saw four fall from the thwarts, at all events, and all hands ceased pulling, whilst three of the oars slipped unnoticed overboard.

I unrove the spinnaker-sheet from the main-boom before the astonished Bob knew what I was about, let go the halliards, and let the sail down by the run; and then jumped to the jib halliards and hoisted the sail like lightning.

”Now,” shouted I, ”luff you may, Bob, and let's heave the craft to, and finish the job for them.”

As I said this, Bob put his helm down, whilst I hauled the jib sheet to windward, and then I sprang aft again to the gun.

By this time they had taken to their oars again, but there were only two of them pulling: a sure indication of the extent to which our last shot had told. They were turning the boat round to pull back to the s.h.i.+p, and seeing this I felt some compunction about firing on them again, and said so.

”Don't be such a soft-hearted donkey, Harry lad,” retorted Bob. ”Settle the whole lot if you can, boy; it'll only be so many skulking cutthroats the less in the world. _My_ idee is that every one of them chaps as we can finish off is one honest man's life saved; so give 'em another of them sh.e.l.ls, my boy. They _do_ seem wonderful persuaders, small as they be.”

I accordingly loaded again, and fired; but, probably from excitement, fired too high, and the missile flew harmlessly over the boat.

The next time I was more careful, aiming with the utmost deliberation.

At length I pulled the trigger-line, and immediately leapt to my feet to watch for the result.

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