He knew that the lieutenant was to blame for not being prepared for an attack, however little it might be antic.i.p.ated; but at the same time he would have to share the lieutenant's disgrace as second officer--the disgrace of a well manned and armed king's ship falling into the hands of a pack of smugglers.

He knew, too, that if he had proposed taking precautions, Lieutenant Lips...o...b.. would have laughed at him, and refused to take his advice; but he would have felt more at rest if he had made the suggestion.

But the mishap had happened, and according to the old proverb it was of no use to cry over spilt milk. What he felt he had to do now was to find a cow and get some more.

But how?

By the sounds on deck it was evident that the cutter had been seized by quite a strong party, and it was no less certain that they would not have made so desperate a move if they had not some particular venture on the way. What Hilary felt then was that he must not only turn the tables on the attacking party, but try and make a valuable capture as well.

But again--how?

He could not answer the question, but as he tried to solve the difficulty the feeling was strong upon him--could he manage to do this before the lieutenant recovered?

The excitement produced by this idea was such that it drove away all thoughts of peril and danger, and he could think of nothing but the dash and daring of such an exploit.

As he thought, his hand gripped the hilt of his sword more tightly, and he whispered an order to the men:

"Close round."

The crew eagerly pressed up to him, and he spoke.

"We've got to wipe out a disgrace, my lads--hush! don't cheer, let them think we are doing nothing."

"Ay, ay, sir," came in a low growl.

"I say, my lads, we've got to wipe out a disgrace, and the sooner the better. One hour ought to be enough to get on deck and drive these scoundrels either overboard or below. Then I think there'll be some prize-money to be earned, for they are sure to be running a cargo to-night. Silence! No cheering. Now then, to work. Waters, how are we to get up the hatch?"

"Powder, sir," said the gunner laconically.

"And blow ourselves to pieces."

"No, sir, I think I can build up a pile of hammocks and fire half-a-dozen cartridges atop of it, and blow the hatch off without hurting us much below."

"Try it," said Hilary shortly. "You marines, come aft into the cabin and we'll get the ventilators open; you can fire through there."

The four marines and their corporal marched into the cabin, where a couple kneeled upon the little table, and two more stood ready to cover them, when the folly of attempting to blow off the hatch became apparent to Hilary; for he saw that he would do more harm to his own men than would warrant the attempt.

"Get axes," he said.

This was done, and the gunner brought out a long iron bar used in shifting the long gun, but he muttered a protest the while that there was nothing like the powder.

"Silence there," cried Hilary. "Waters, pa.s.s that bar to Tully, and you with your men go forward and keep the fore-hatch. If they open it and try to come down to take us in the rear when we begin to break through here, up with you and gain the deck at all costs. You understand?"

"Ay, ay, sir."

"I'll send you help if you get the hatch open. Go on!"

The gunner and half-a-dozen men went forward and stood ready, while at a sign from the young officer the dimly-seen figure of Tom Tully took a couple of steps up the cabin-ladder, and there he stood with the bar poised in his bare arms ready to make his first attack upon the wooden cover as soon as the order reached his ears.

Just then a rattling noise was heard, and the hatch was evidently about to be removed. The next moment it was off, and the light of a lantern flashed down, showing that half-a-dozen musket barrels had been thrust into the opening, while about them flashed the blades of as many swords.

There was a dead silence below, for Hilary and his men were taken by surprise, and though the hatch was now open there was such a terrible display of weapons in the opening that an attempt to rush up seemed madness.

"Below there!" cried a harsh voice; "surrender, or we fire."

"Is Hilary Leigh there?" cried another voice, one which made the young man start as he recognised that of Sir Harry Norland.

"Yes, sir, I am here," he said after a moment's pause.

"Tell your men to surrender quietly, Mr Leigh, and if they give their word not to attempt rescue or escape they will have two of the cutter's boats given to them, and they can row ash.o.r.e."

"And what about the cutter, Sir Henry?" said Hilary quietly.

"She is our lawful prize," was the reply.

"And no mistake," said the rough, harsh voice, which Hilary recognised now as that of the apparently stupid skipper of the _cha.s.se maree_.

"Come up first, Mr Leigh," said Sir Henry; "but leave your arms below.

I give you my word that you shall not be hurt."

"I cannot give you my word that you will not be hurt, Sir Henry, if you do not keep out of danger," cried Hilary. "We are all coming on deck, cutla.s.s in one hand, pistol in the other. Now, my lads! Forward!"

Madness or no madness he made a dash, and at the same moment Tom Tully struck upwards with his iron bar, sweeping aside the presented muskets, half of which were fired with the effect that their bullets were buried in the woodwork round the hatch.

What took place during those next few moments Hilary did not know, only that he made a spring to mount the cabin-ladder and got nearly out at the hatch, but as Tom Tully and another man sprang forward at the same moment they hindered one another, when there was a few moments' interval of fierce struggling, the sound of oaths and blows, a few shots were fired by the marines through the cabin skylight, and then Hilary found himself lying on the lower deck under Tom Tully, listening to the banging down of the cabin-hatch.

"Are you much hurt, sir?" said one of the men.

"Don't know yet," said Hilary, as Tully was dragged off him. "Confound the brutes! I'll serve them out for this. Is any one killed?"

"I ain't," growled Tom Tully, with his hand to the back of his head.

"But that there slash went half through my tail, and I've got one on the cheek."

Tom Tully's wound on the cheek proved to be quite a slight cut, and the other man was only stunned, but the injury to his pigtail was more than he could bear.

"Of all the cowardly games as ever I did come acrost," he growled, "this here's 'bout the worst. Think o' trying to cut off a sailor's pigtail!

It's worse than mutiny!"

"Hold your tongue, you stupid fellow!" cried Hilary, who could not help feeling amused even then. "Why, don't you see that your tail has saved your head?"

"Who wanted his head saved that way?" growled Tom Tully. "It's cowardly, that's what it is! I don't call it fair fighting to hit a man behind."

"Silence!" exclaimed Hilary; and as the trampling went on overhead he tried to make out what the enemy were doing.

He was startled to find Sir Henry on board, but though he looked upon him as a friend, he felt no compunction now in meeting him as an enemy who must take his chance. Betraying him when a fugitive was one thing, dealing with him as one of a party making an attack upon a king's ship another.

A chill of dread ran through him for a moment as he thought of the possibility of Sir Henry's daughter being his companion, but a second thought made him feel a.s.sured that she could not be present at a time like this.

"And Sir Henry would only think me a contemptible traitor if I surrendered," he said to himself; and then he began to make fresh plans.