TALES OF THE SEA: 12 Maritime Adventure Novels in One Volume (Illustrated)
will try all her boasted powers, and to insure a victory that will not be bought without a price.”
“But should he escape”—
“On my life he will not attempt it. I not only know the man, but how formidable are his means of resistance. A short half hour will put us in the necessary condition, and do no discredit either to our spirit or to our prudence.”
The veteran yielded a reluctant consent, which was not, however, accorded without much muttering concerning the disgrace a British man-of-war incurred in not running alongside the boldest pirate that floated, and blowing him out of water, with a single match. Wilder, who was accustomed to the honest professional bravados that often formed a peculiar embellishment to the really firm and manly resolution of the seamen of that age, permitted him to make his plaints at will, while he busied himself in a manner that he knew was now of the last importance and in a duty that properly came under his more immediate inspection, in consequence of the station he occupied.
The “order for all hands to clear ship for action” was again given, and received in the cheerful temper with which mariners are wont to welcome any of the more important changes of their exciting profession. Little remained, however, to be done; for most of the previous preparations had still been left, as at the original meeting of the two vessels. Then came the beat to quarters, and the more serious and fearful-looking preparations for certain combat. After these several arrangements had been completed, the crew at their guns, the sail-trimmers at the braces, and the officers in their several batteries, the after-yards were swung, and the ship once more put in motion.
During this brief interval, the vessel of the Rover lay, at the distance of half a mile, in a state of entire rest, without betraying the smallest interest in the obvious movements of her hostile neighbour. When, however, the “Dart” was seen yielding to the breeze, and gradually increasing her velocity, until the water was gathering under her fore-foot in a little rolling wave of foam, the bows of the other fell off from the direction of the wind, the topsail was filled, and, in her turn, the hull was held in command, by giving to it the impetus of motion. The “Dart” now set again at her gaff that broad field which had been lowered during the conference, and which had floated in triumph through the hazards and struggles of a thousand combats. No answering emblem, however was exhibited from the peak of her adversary.
In this manner the two ships “gathered way,” as it is expressed in nautical language, watching each other with eyes as jealous as though they had been two rival monsters of the great deep, each endeavouring to conceal from his antagonist the evolution contemplated next. The earnest, serious manner of Wilder had not failed to produce its influence on the straight-minded seaman who commanded the ‘Dart;’ and, by this time, he was as much disposed as his lieutenant to approach the conflict leisurely, and with proper caution.
The day had hitherto been cloudless, and a vault of purer blue never canopied a waste of water, than the arch which had swept for hours above the heads of our marine adventurers. But, as if nature frowned on their present bloody designs, a dark, threatening mass of vapour was blending the ocean with the sky, in a direction opposed to the steady currents of the air, These well-known and ominous signs did not escape the vigilance of those who manned the hostile vessels, but the danger was still deemed too remote to interrupt the higher interests of the approaching combat.
“We have a squall brewing in the west,” said the experienced and wary Bignall, pointing to the frowning symptoms as he spoke; “but we can handle the pirate, and get all snug again, before it works its way up against this breeze.”
Wilder assented; for, by this time, high professional pride was swelling in his bosom also, and a generous rivalry was getting the mastery of feelings that were possibly foreign to his duty, however natural they might have been in one as open to kindness as himself.
“The Rover is sending down even his lighter masts!” exclaimed the youth; “it would seem that he greatly distrusts the weather.”
“We will not follow his example; for he will wish they were aloft again, the moment we get him fairly under the play of our batteries. By George our King, but he has a pretty moving boat under him. Let fall the main-course, sir; down with it, or we shall have it night before we get the rogue a-beam.”
The order was obeyed; and then the “Dart,” feeling the powerful impulse, quickened her speed like an animated being, that is freshly urged by its apprehensions or its wishes. By this time, she had gained a position on the weather-quarter of her adversary who had not manifested the smallest desire to prevent her attaining so material an advantage. On the contrary, while the “Dolphin” kept the same canvas spread, she continued to lighten her top-hamper bringing as much of the weight as possible, from the towering height of her tall masts, to the greater security of the hull. Still, the distance between them was too great, in the opinion of Bignall, to commence the contest, while the facility with which his adversary moved a-head threatened to protract the important moment to an unreasonable extent, or to reduce him to a crowd of sail that might prove embarrassing while enveloped in the smoke, and pressed by the urgencies of the combat.
“We will touch his pride, sir, since you think him a man of spirit,” said the veteran, to his faithful coadjutor: “Give him a weather-gun, and show him another of his Master’s ensigns.”
The roar of the piece, and the display of three more of the fields of England, in quick succession, from different parts of the “Dart,” failed to produce the slightest evidence, even of observation, aboard their seemingly insensible neighbour. The “Dolphin” still kept on her way, occasionally swooping up gracefully to touch the wind, and then deviating from her course again to leeward, as the porpoise is seen to turn aside from his direction to snuff the breeze, while he lazily sports along his briny path.
“He will not be moved by any of the devices of lawful and ordinary warfare,” said Wilder, when he witnessed the indifference with which their challenge had been received.
“Then try him with a shot.”
A gun was now discharged from the side next the still receding “Dolphin.” The iron messenger was seen bounding along the surface of the sea, skipping lightly from wave to wave, until it cast a little cloud of spray upon the very deck of their enemy, as it boomed harmlessly past her hull. Another, and yet another, followed, without in any manner extracting signal or notice from the Rover.
“How’s this!” exclaimed the disappointed Bignall. “Has he a charm for his ship, that all our shot sweep by him in rain! Master Fid, can you do nothing for the credit of honest people, and the honour of a pennant? Let us hear from your old favourite; in times past she used to speak to better purpose.”
“Ay, ay, sir,” returned the accommodating Richard who, in the sudden turns of his fortune, found himself in authority over a much-loved and long-cherished piece. “I christened the gun after Mistress Whiffle, your Honour, for the same reason, that they both can do their own talking. Now, stand aside, my lads, and let clattering Kate have a whisper in the discourse.”
Richard, who had coolly taken his sight, while speaking, now deliberately applied the match with his own hand, and, with a philosophy that was sufficiently to be commended in a mercenary, sent what he boldly pronounced to be “a thorough straight-goer” across the water, in the direction of his recent associates. The usual moments of suspense succeeded and then the torn fragments, which were seen scattered in the air, announced that the shot had passed through the nettings of the “Dolphin.” The effect on the vessel of the Rover was instantaneous, and nearly magical. A long stripe of cream-coloured canvas, which had been artfully extended, from her stem to her stern, in a line with her guns, disappeared as suddenly as a bird would shut its wings, leaving in its place a broad blood-red belt, which was bristled with the armament of the ship. At the same time, an ensign of a similar ominous colour, rose from her poop, and, fluttering darkly and fiercely for a moment, it became fixed at the end of the gaff.
“Now I know him for the knave that he is!” cried the excited Bignall; “and, see! he has thrown away his false paint, and shows the well-known bloody side, from which he gets his name. Stand to your guns, my men! the pirate is getting earnest.”
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