Part 22 (1/2)
Contrary to expectation the boats did not again hail, but in a few minutes the dark hull of the British cruiser became indistinctly visible as it slipped swiftly through the water before the freshening breeze, and neared the comparatively slow-going whaler rapidly. Soon it came within easy range, and while Captain Dunning looked over the taffrail with a troubled countenance, trying to make her out, the same voice came hoa.r.s.ely down on the night breeze issuing the same peremptory command.
”Turn up the hands, Mr Millons, and serve out pistols and cutla.s.ses.
Get the carronades on the forecastle and quarterdeck loaded, Mr Markham, and look alive; we must show the enemy a bold front, whoever he is.”
As the captain issued these orders, the darkness was for an instant illuminated by a bright flash; the roar of a cannon reverberated over the sea; a round-shot whistled through the rigging of the _Red Eric_, and the next instant the foretopsail-yard came rattling down upon the deck.
Immediately after, the cruiser ranged up alongside, and the order to heave-to was repeated with a threat that was calculated to cause the hair of a man of peace to stand on end. The effect on Captain Dunning was to induce him to give the order--
”Point the guns there, lads, and aim high; I don't like to draw first blood--even of a pirate.”
”s.h.i.+p ahoy! Who are you, and where from?” inquired Captain Dunning, through the speaking-trumpet.
”Her British Majesty's frigate _Firebrand_. If you don't heave-to, sir, instantly, I'll give you a broadside. Who are you, and where bound?”
”Whew!” whistled Captain Dunning, to vent his feelings of surprise ere he replied, ”The _Red Eric_, South Sea whaler, outward bound.”
Having given this piece of information, he ordered the topsails to be backed, and the s.h.i.+p was hove-to. Meanwhile a boat was lowered from the cruiser, and the captain thereof speedily leaped upon the whaler's quarterdeck.
The explanation that followed was not by any means calculated to allay the irritation of the British captain. He had made quite sure that the _Red Eric_ was the slaver of which he was in search, and the discovery of his mistake induced him to make several rather severe remarks in reference to the crew of the _Red Eric_ generally and her commander in particular.
”Why didn't you heave-to when I ordered you,” he said, ”and so save all this trouble and worry?”
”Because,” replied Captain Dunning drily, ”I'm not in the habit of obeying orders until I know that he who gives 'em has a right to do so.
But 'tis a pity to waste time talking about such trifles when the craft you are in search of is not very far away at this moment.”
”What mean you, sir?” inquired the captain of the cruiser quickly.
”I mean that yonder vessel, scarcely visible now on the lee bow, is the slaver, in all likelihood.”
The captain gave but one hasty glance in the direction pointed to by Captain Dunning, and next moment he was over the side of the s.h.i.+p, and the boat was flying swiftly towards his vessel. The rapid orders given on board the cruiser soon after, showed that her commander was eagerly in pursuit of the strange vessel ahead, and the flash and report of a couple of guns proved that he was again giving orders in his somewhat peremptory style.
When daylight appeared, Captain Dunning was still on deck, and Glynn Proctor stood by the wheel. The post of the latter, however, was a sinecure, as the wind had again fallen. When the sun rose it revealed the three vessels lying becalmed within a short distance of each other and several miles off sh.o.r.e.
”So, so,” exclaimed the captain, taking the gla.s.s and examining the other vessels. ”I see it's all up with the slaver. Serves him right; don't it, Glynn?”
”It does,” replied Glynn emphatically. ”I hope they will all be hanged.
Isn't that the usual way of serving these fellows out?”
”Well, not exactly, lad. They don't go quite that length--more's the pity; if they did, there would be less slave-trading; but the rascals will lose both s.h.i.+p and cargo.”
”I wonder,” said Glynn, ”how they can afford to carry on the trade when they lose so many s.h.i.+ps as I am told they do every year.”
”You wouldn't wonder, boy, if you knew the enormous prices got for slaves. Why, the profits on one cargo, safely delivered, will more than cover the loss of several vessels and cargoes. You may depend on't they would not carry it on if it did not pay.”
”Humph!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Glynn, giving the wheel a savage turn, as if to express his thorough disapprobation of the slave-trade, and his extreme disgust at not being able, by the strength of his own right arm, at once to repress it. ”And who's to pay for our foretopsail-yard?” he inquired, abruptly, as if desirous of changing the subject.
”Ourselves, I fear,” replied the captain. ”We must take it philosophically, and comfort ourselves with the fact that it _is_ the foretopsail-yard, and not the bowsprit or the mainmast, that was carried away. It's not likely the captain of the cruiser will pay for it, at any rate.”
Captain Dunning was wrong. That same morning he received a polite note from the commander of the said cruiser, requesting the pleasure of his company to dinner, in the event of the calm continuing, and a.s.suring him that the carpenter and the sail-maker of the man-of-war should be sent on board his s.h.i.+p after breakfast to repair damages. Captain Dunning, therefore, like an honest, straightforward man as he was, admitted that he had been hasty in his judgment, and stated to Glynn Proctor, emphatically, that the commander of the _Firebrand_ was ”a trump.”