One of Clive's Heroes Part 14

"By thunder, no! But if we hold our present course we're bound to pa.s.s within hailing distance. Better put 'em off the scent."

He altered the vessel's course a point or two with the object of pa.s.sing to windward of the strangers, as if steering for the Portuguese port of Goa.

"They're running up their colours," remarked Diggle half an hour later.

"British, as I thought. We'll hoist Portuguese."

A minute or two later a puff of smoke was observed to sally from the larger of the two grabs, followed in a few seconds by the boom of the gun.

"A call to us to heave-to," said Bulger in answer to Desmond's inquiry.

"The unbelievin' critters thinks that Portuguee rag is all my eye."

But the _Good Intent_ was by this time to windward of the vessels, and Captain Barker, standing on the quarter-deck, paid no heed to the signal. After a short interval another puff came from the deck of the grab, and a round shot plunged into the sea a cable's length from the _Good Intent's_ bows, the grab at the same time hauling her wind and preparing to alter her course in pursuit. This movement was at once copied by the other three vessels, but being at least half a mile ahead of the grab that had fired, they were a long distance astern when the chase--for chase it was to be--began.

Captain Barker watched the grab with the eyes of a lynx. The _Good Intent_ had run out of range while the grab was being put about; but the captain knew very well that the pursuer could sail much closer to the wind than his own vessel, and that his only chance was to beat off the leading boat before the others had time to come up.

It required very little at any time to put Captain Barker into a rage, and his demeanour was watched now with different feelings by different members of his crew. Diggle alone appeared unconcerned; he was smiling as he lolled against the mast.

"They'll fire at me, will they?" growled the captain with a curse. "And chase me, will they? By jiminy, they shall sink me before I surrender!"

"'Degeneres animos timor arguit,'" quoted Diggle, smiling.

"Argue it? I'll be hanged if I argue it! They're not King's ships to take it on 'emselves to stop me on the high seas! If the Company wants to prevent me from honest trading in these waters let 'em go to law, and be hanged to 'em! Talk of arguing! Lawyer's work. Humph!"

"You mistake, Barker. The Roman fellow whose words slipped out of my mouth almost unawares said nothing of arguing. 'Fear is the mark only of base minds:' so it runs in English, captain; which is as much as to say that Captain Ben Barker is not the man to haul down his colours in a hurry."

"You're right there. Another shot! That's their argument: well, Ben Barker can talk that way as well as another."

He called up the boatswain. Shortly afterwards the order was piped, "Up all hammocks!" The men quickly stowed their bedding, secured it with lashings, and carried it to the appointed places on the quarter-deck, p.o.o.p, or forecastle. Meanwhile the boatswain and his mates secured the yards; the ship's carpenter brought up shot plugs for repairing any breaches made under the water-line; and the gunners looked to the cannon and prepared charges for them and the small arms.

Bulger was in charge of the 12-pounder aft, and Mr. Toley had told off Desmond to a.s.sist him. They stood side by side watching the progress of the grab, which gained steadily in spite of the plunging due to its curious build. Presently another shot came from her; it shattered the belfry on the forecastle of the _Good Intent_, and splashed into the sea a hundred yards ahead.

"They make good practice, for sartin," remarked Bulger. "I may be wrong, but I'll lay my life there be old man-o'-war's men aboard. I mind me when I was with Captain Golightly on the _Minotaur_----"

But Bulger's yarn was intercepted. At that moment the boatswain piped, "All hands to quarters!" In a surprisingly short time all timber was cleared away, the galley fire was extinguished, the yards slung, the deck strewn with wet sand, and sails, booms, and boats liberally drenched with water. The gun-captains, each with his crew, cast loose the lashings of their weapons and struck open the ports. The tompions were taken out, the sponge, rammer, crows and handspikes placed in readiness, and all awaited eagerly the word for the action to begin.

"'Tis about time we opened our mouths at 'em," said Bulger. "The next bolus they send us as like as not will bring the spars a-rattlin' about our ears. To be sure it goes against my stummick to fire on old messmates; but it en't in Englishmen to hold their noses and swaller pills o' that there size. We'll load up all ready, mateys."

He stripped to the waist, and tied a handkerchief over his ears.

Desmond and the men followed his example. Then one of them sponged the bore, another inserted the cartridge, containing three pounds of powder, by means of a long ladle, a third shoved in a wad of rope yarn. This having been driven home by the rammer, the round shot was inserted, and covered like the cartridge with a wad. Then Bulger took his priming-iron, an instrument like a long thin corkscrew, and thrust it into the touch-hole to clear the vent and make an incision in the cartridge. Removing the priming-iron, he replaced it by the priming-tube--a thin tapering tube with very narrow bore. Into this he poured a quant.i.ty of fine mealed powder; then he laid a train of the same powder in the little groove cut in the gun from the touch-hole towards the breech. With the end of his powder-horn he slightly bruised the train, and the gun only awaited a spark from the match.

Everything was done very quickly, and Desmond watched the seamen with admiration. He himself had charge of the linstock, about which were wound several matches, consisting of lengths of twisted cotton wick steeped in lye. They had already been lighted, for they burnt so slowly that they would last for several hours.

"Now we're ship-shape," said Bulger. "Mind you, Burke, don't come too far for'ard with your linstock. I don't want the train fired with no sparks afore I'm ready. And 'ware o' the breech; she'll kick like a jumpin' jacka.s.s when the shot flies out of her, an'll knock your teeth out afore you can say Jack Robinson.--Ah! there's the word at last; now, mateys, here goes!"

He laid the gun, waited for the ship to rise from a roll, then took one of the matches, gently blew its smouldering end, and applied the glowing wick to the bruised part of the priming. There was a flash, a roar, and before Desmond could see the effect of the shot Bulger had closed the vent, the gun was run in, and the sponger was at work cleaning the chamber. As the black smoke cleared away it was apparent that the seaman had not forgotten his cunning. The shot had struck the grab on the deck of the prow and smashed into the forecastle. But the bow-chasers were apparently uninjured, for they replied a few seconds later.

"Ah! There's a wunner!" said Bulger admiringly.

A shot had carried away a yard of the gunwale of the _Good Intent_, scattering splinters far and wide, which inflicted nasty wounds on the second mate and a seaman on the quarter-deck. A jagged end of wood flying high struck Diggle on the left cheek. He wiped away the blood imperturbably; it was evident that lack of courage was not among his defects.

Captain Barker's ire was now at white heat. Shouting an order to Bulger and the next man to make rapid practice with the two stern-chasers, he prepared to fall off and bring the _Good Intent's_ broadside to bear on the enemy. But the next shot was decisive. Diggle had quietly strolled down to the gun next to Bulger's. It had just been reloaded. He bade the gun-captain, in a low tone, to move aside. Then, with a glance to see that the priming was in order, he took careful sight, and waiting until the grab's main, mizzen, and foremasts opened to view all together, he applied the match. The shot sped true, and a second later the grab's mainmast, with sails and rigging, went by the board.

A wild cheer from the crew of the _Good Intent_ acclaimed the excellent shot.

"By thunder!" said Bulger to Desmond, "Diggle may be a rogue, but he knows how to train a gun."

Captain Barker signified his approval by a tremendous mouth-filling oath. But he was not yet safe. The second grab was following hard in the wake of the first; and it was plain that the two Indiamen were both somewhat faster than the _Good Intent_; for during the running fight that had just ended so disastrously for the grab, they had considerably lessened the gap between them and their quarry. Captain Barker watched them with an expression of fierce determination; but not without anxiety. If they should come within striking distance it was impossible to withstand successfully their heavier armament and larger crews. The firing had ceased: each vessel had crowded on all sail; and the brisk breeze must soon bring pursuer and pursued to a close engagement which could have only one result.

"I may be wrong, but seems to me we'd better say our prayers," Bulger remarked grimly to his gun crew.

But Desmond, gazing up at the shrouds, said suddenly:

"The wind's dropping. Look!"

It was true. Before the monsoon sets in in earnest it not unfrequently happens that the wind veers fitfully; a squall is succeeded almost instantaneously by a calm. So it was now. In less than an hour all five vessels were becalmed; and when night fell, three miles separated the _Good Intent_ from the second grab; the Indiamen lay a mile further astern; and the damaged vessel was out of sight.

Captain Barker took counsel with his officers. He expected to be attacked during the night by the united boats of the pursuing fleet.

Under cover of darkness they would be able to creep up close and board the vessel; and the captain knew well that if taken he would be treated as a pirate. His papers were made out for Philadelphia; he had hoisted Portuguese colours, but the enemy at close quarters could easily see that the _Good Intent_ was British built; he had disabled one of the Company's vessels; there would be no mercy for him. He saw no chance of beating off the enemy; they would outnumber him by at least five to one.

Even if the wind sprang up again there was small likelihood of escape.

One or other of the pursuing vessels would almost certainly overhaul him, and hold him till the others came up.

"'Tis a 'tarnal fix," he said.

"Methinks 'tis a case of 'actum est de n.o.bis'," re marked Diggle, pleasantly.

"Confound you!" said the captain with a burst of anger. "What could I expect with a gallows-bird like you aboard? 'Tis enough to sink a vessel without shot."

Diggle's face darkened. But in a moment his smile returned.

"You are overwrought, captain," he said; "you are unstrung. 'Twould be ridiculous to take amiss words said in haste. In cool blood--well, you know me, Captain Barker. I will leave you to recover from your brief madness."

He went below. The captain was left with Mr. Toley and the other officers. Barker and Toley always got on well together, for the simple reason that the mate never thwarted his superior, never resented his abuse, but went quietly his own way. He listened now for a quarter of an hour, with fixed sadness of expression, while Captain Barker poured the vials of his wrath upon everything under the sun. When the captain had come to an end, and sunk into a state of lowering dudgeon, Mr. Toley said quietly:

"'Tis all you say, sir, and more. I guess I've never seen a harder case. But while you was speaking, something you said struck a sort of idea into my brain."

"That don't happen often. What is it?"

"Why, the sort of idea that came to me out o' what you was saying was just this. How would it be to take soundings?"

"So that's your notion, is it? Hang me, are you a fool like the rest of 'em! You're always taking soundings! What in the name of thunder do you want to take soundings for?"

"Nothing particular, cap'n. That was the kind o' notion that come of what you was saying. Of course it depends on the depth hereabouts."

"Deep enough to sink you and your notions and all that's like to come of 'em. Darned if I han't got the most lubberly ship's company ever mortal man was plagued with. Officers and men, there en't one of you as is worth your salt, and you with your long face and your notions--why, hang me, you're no more good than the dirtiest waister afloat."

Mr. Toley smiled sadly, and ventured on no rejoinder. After the captain's outburst none of the group dared to utter a word. This pleased him no better; he cursed them all for standing mum, and spent ten minutes in reviling them in turn. Then his pa.s.sion appeared to have burnt itself out. Turning suddenly to the melancholy mate, he said roughly: