For a short time the clouds had closed in, and the stranger was hidden from view, but they again breaking, she was seen like some huge dark monster, towering up towards the sky, surging onwards on the starboard quarter of the "Concorde."

"We shall soon see now, sir, what she is," observed Rawson to his superior.

The bright flash of a gun, and an eighteen-pound shot, which came crashing into the side of the prize left that point very little in doubt.

"Man the starboard guns!" cried Mr Calder. "We'll show the Frenchmen that though we have lost our wings we have still got our beaks."

With a hearty cheer--though, from the paucity of their numbers, not a very loud one--the men went to the guns.

Could they beat off the enemy? They would try, at all events. Rawson in a moment forgot his forebodings, and was all life and courage. The enemy was seen to be shortening sail, so as not to pa.s.s the "Concorde."

"Fire!" cried Lieutenant Calder. The men obeyed with alacrity, but scarcely had the shot left the mouths of the guns than the enemy replied with a crashing broadside, which shot away several of the stays of the jury-masts, knocked over three or four of the crew, and reduced the frigate almost to the state of wreck in which she had been found when captured.

Rawson was the only officer wounded, but still he cheered on the crew.

"We'll not give in lads! Old England for ever!" he exclaimed, putting his right hand to a gun-tackle, and hauling away. The other arm had been hit.

In vain were all the efforts of those gallant men.

"Here she comes!" was the cry. "Boarders! repel boarders!"

The enemy gave a sheer to port, and with a loud crash ran alongside the "Concorde." Grappling-irons were hove aboard her and the next instant the Frenchmen, in overpowering numbers, rushed like a torrent along her decks.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

THE "THISBE'S" CREW PREPARE FOR A FRESH FIGHT.

The chief anxiety of Captain Courtney when he ascertained that the approaching ship was an enemy, was to secure the escape of the prize.

She would indeed have been of very little use to the "Thisbe" in repelling an attack, as the French frigate from having all her canvas would have been able to manoeuvre so as to engage each of them singly.

"There she goes, and I'll engage Tom Calder's heart is heavier than any one's aboard here at having to run away!" exclaimed Captain Courtney--"Good luck go with him. We'll try and keep the enemy engaged, and wing him, if we can. You'll do your best, I know, my lads."

A cheerful shout was the answer to this appeal, the last part of which was addressed to the crew.

The men were now seen fastening their handkerchiefs round their heads, tightening their waistbands, most of them having thrown off their jackets and shirts, standing at their guns with their brawny arms and shoulders bare, like pictures of Hercules prepared for battle; not a countenance that did not exhibit a cheerful alacrity for the battle.

As the captain took a walk round the decks, he felt a.s.sured that what men could do they would to maintain the honour of old England's flag.

Many bore marks of their recent combat, and several still pale from loss of blood, had insisted on rising from their hammocks and going to their guns. Among them stood the boatswain, Rolf Morton; the captain shook his head at him.

"What! you could not trust us to fight the ship without you, Mr Morton?" he said, in a kind tone of reproof. "I must let you stay now you are on deck, but I would rather you were snug in your berth."

"While I've breath for my pipe, and legs to stand on, I'd rather be here, Captain Courtney, thank you, sir," answered Rolf. "I would lose an arm rather than let our prize be retaken."

"So would I, Mr Morton, and we will do our best to help her escape,"

said the captain, and he pa.s.sed on.

With like kind words of encouragement both to officers and men, the captain pa.s.sed along the guns; not a man of the crew who would not have dropped at their quarters, or gone down with the ship, rather than yield as long as their brave chief bade them fight on.

By the time Captain Courtney regained his post on the quarter-deck, the enemy had got within gun-shot, and commenced firing with her longer pieces at the "Thisbe," but the shot fell wide.

"The enemy's gunners want practice," observed the captain to the third lieutenant, who was doing duty as first, though he himself was severely wounded. "We'll reserve our fire till they get a little nearer, and then give it them with a will. They probably expect that we shall haul down our colours after we have satisfied the calls of honour with a few shots."

"They don't know of whom they have got hold then," answered Mr Trenane, the lieutenant. "In a light wind they might have had too much the advantage of us, but with this breeze, the loss of our masts will matter less, I hope."

The enemy was now coming up rapidly on the "Thisbe's" quarter. A shot from her bow chasers whistled through the latter's rigging; several others followed as the guns could be brought to bear.

On she came.

The "Thisbe" had not fired.

"Down with the helm and give it them, my lads!" suddenly shouted the captain.

The English frigate luffed up, and poured her whole broadside into the bows of the approaching enemy. The Frenchman put down his helm and returned the compliment, and now the two ships stood on for some time exchanging broadsides as rapidly as they could. At length a shot struck the "Thisbe's" fore-topmast; it had been wounded in the previous engagement. Down it came with a crash, but so eagerly were the crew engaged that few discovered what had happened.

The master with a few hands flew aloft, and quickly cut away the wreck; the crew redoubled their efforts. Still the uninjured condition of the enemy's rigging gave her an important advantage; her shot came crashing on board the "Thisbe."

Whatever Captain Courtney might have thought, he appeared as cheerful and confident as ever. His courage kept up that of the crew. The enemy was frequently hulled. Now one spar was shot away; now another; his fire slackened. The British crew cheered l.u.s.tily. That hearty cheer must have been heard along the Frenchman's decks. It showed him that though his enemy was almost dismantled, the courage of the people was as undaunted as ever.

"We may not take him, but we may prevent his taking us," observed Morton, as he moved among the crew.

Just then the Frenchman's bow was seen to move up closer to the wind; his tacks were hauled aboard, the breeze was freshening, and away he stood on a bowline under all the sail he could set, leaving the astonished crew of the British ship rubbing their eyes and wondering what he was about. They, however, did not cease sending their shot after him, as a parting compliment.

"She has but hauled off to repair damages," observed the third lieutenant to the captain.

"Not so sure of that, Trenane," answered Captain Courtney; "probably her captain and other superior officers have been killed or wounded, and the rest suspect that we should prove too tough a morsel for them to digest."

Captain Courtney seemed to be right in his conjectures; the French frigate stood on.

All hands were instantly set to work to repair damages, to be ready for her in case she should return. Many an eye cast an anxious glance in the direction in which she was steering. The brave crew would have welcomed her back, but they wished to be ready first to receive her.

Again she was observed to alter her course.

"She is coming back!" was the cry. "Hurra, lads, we'll give it her if she does."

They watched her eagerly. She was steering to the northward under all sail. There could be little doubt that she was in pursuit of the "Concorde." More energetically than ever the crew worked away, in the hopes of being in a condition to go to the aid of their consort; but every instant the wind was increasing, the sea was getting up, and their task became more difficult. Dark clouds were gathering in the western horizon. It was evident that a gale was brewing, and there were appearances that it would be a severe one. The safety of the ship demanded all the care of the officers and the redoubled exertions of the men. The guns were secured, the shot holes stopped, the rigging knotted and spliced as strongly as time would allow; everything moveable below was lashed, and the ship's head was brought to the wind to meet the expected blast. Had she had sea room she might have scudded, but, with the land under her lee, that was out of the question. As a brave man girds himself for an inevitable and deadly contest, so was the gallant ship prepared for the desperate conflict with the elements.

The British crew had not prepared unnecessarily to meet the gale, although delayed; down it came at length upon them with even greater fury than was expected. More than once it seemed as if the masts and rigging would give way, and that the frigate would be driven helplessly before its fury. Had a sail gone, had a rope given way, she might have been hurried to destruction; but careful hands had secured the rigging, every rope held, and there she lay n.o.bly breasting the storm. Still she drifted to the eastward, and, should the gale continue long, she after all could not escape destruction.

As the morning approached, the wind blew harder and harder. Daylight exhibited no sign of its abating. All that day it continued, its fury in no way decreased. The weary crew began to faint with their exertions, but the officers went among them, and with cheering words reanimated their spirits. The carpenter had often sounded the well. He now reported that the ship had sprang a leak; the pumps must be manned; the demand on the energies of the crew was increased. Still they worked cheerfully. Even some of the wounded insisted on coming up to take their spell at the pumps.

Night again came on, but not for a moment during the whole course of it did Captain Courtney leave the deck. Often and often did he look out astern. He had good reason for so doing. The order was given to range the cables. It might be necessary to anchor, to make, at all events, the attempt to bring up the ship before she was driven on the enemy's sh.o.r.es.

The morning returned at last, and away to the leeward, amid the thick driving spray, and through the pale cold cheerless light, a line of coast rose above the tumbling waters. Calm, as if no storm was raging, Captain Courtney walked the deck, his eye now turned astern--now at the rigging of his ship. He sent Mr Trenane forward to see that the anchors were ready for letting go. The lieutenant reported all ready.

"Then we have done all that men can do to save the ship, and to Providence we must trust the rest," observed the captain.