"Were you attacked?" I asked eagerly.

"Nay, 'twas but practice, yet 'tis what we must accustom ourselves to, for I doubt not that we shall smell powder in real earnest ere we see Poole once again."

Just then 'Enery, who, I discovered, was the bos'n, knocked at the cabin door and reported that the wind was freshening considerably, whereat Captain Jeremy hastened on deck.

Having finished my meal, I bethought me that I ought to go on deck also, and tying a scarf round my head in place of a hat, I ran up the ladder and gained the p.o.o.p.

The wind was howling through the rigging and driving the spray in white showers across our weather bow, while ahead and as far to larboard as the eye could reach regular combers, with crested tops, showed how the surface of the sea had changed during the last hour.

On our starboard hand a wide expanse of milk-white foam betokened the presence of the dreaded Race of Portland, the bluff headland that gives it its name being plainly visible over our lee bow.

Beyond the heights of Portland the sun was setting in a pale, watery sky, which was fast becoming obscured by rapidly drifting grey patches of ragged clouds--a sure sign of bad weather.

Captain Jeremy neglected no precautions to ensure the safety of his vessel. The fore and main topsails were close-reefed, the storm stay-sails and jib set, and the guns, boats, and hatches properly secured.

"You had best turn in," he shouted, his l.u.s.ty voice barely audible above the shrieking of the wind. "We'll be in the thick of it before long."

Tired out with my exertions and lack of sleep during my night's journey, I retired to the cabin, and, in spite of the incessant rolling and pitching of the vessel, and the thunder of the waves as they poured over her bows, I fell into a deep slumber.

How long I slept I had no idea till I was roughly wakened by 'Enery shaking my shoulder and exclaiming: "'Tis three bells [9.30 a.m.], Master Hammond. You'd best come on deck, for there's a strange sail bearing down on us."

"What is it?" I asked. "Is it a pirate?"

"That I know not; 'tis, I fear, no law-abiding craft, and if we come to close action every man jack'll have his work to do."

By this time I had sprung out of my bunk, and was making for the deck.

CHAPTER XII

A Brush with Algerines

The wind, which had veered in the night and was now nearly dead astern, had moderated in force considerably, and although 'twas raining I could just distinguish a range of cliffs on our starboard hand, ending in a lofty headland with a sheer fall into the sea.

But the cause of the commotion on board was the presence of a long, narrow craft that was bowling along barely two miles off our larboard quarter. She had a lofty fo'c'sle and p.o.o.p, with a low waist, her rig consisting of two raking masts, from the slanting yards of which bellied closely reefed, loose-footed triangular sails. She flew no colours, but from the foremast head a long streamer stood out as rigid as a spar.

"They mean mischief," said Captain Jeremy to the master gunner, who, having called the guns' crews to their stations, had come off to confer with him.

"'Tis strange enow," replied Master Touchstone, "seeing that we are at peace with the French, the Hollanders, and the Spaniards. What think you she is?"

"An Algerine,[1] judging from the cut of her rig," replied Captain Jeremy, "though I scarce thought to meet one of those rascally rovers so close to the English sh.o.r.es. It seems as if Admiral Robert Blake--who upheld the honour of England on the high seas, even though he were a stout rebel--has taught them but half a lesson."

"Report says that last October two of their galleys captured the _Sea Dog_, of Padstow, within sight of the Lizard," observed the master gunner. "Seven stout Cornish fishermen are even now slaving in their pirate dens, for aught I know to the contrary."

"They'll not carry the _Golden Hope_, Master Touchstone," replied Captain Jeremy resolutely. "Your preparations are complete, I take it."

"Aye, aye. Four guns abroadside are loaded to the muzzle with musket bullets, four of the others with iron b.a.l.l.s, and one with bar shot.

'Twill make a fine present for yon craft, if she be in a mind to take it."

From where I stood at the head of the p.o.o.p ladder I could command a clear view of the brig's deck. The guns, with powder and ball ready to hand, were as yet still run in, for with the heavy sea that was raging 'twas unwise to trice up the ports until the actual time to open fire, and we were thus also able to deceive the stranger, who doubtless took us for a merchantman. Had our ports been open and our line of gunning ordnance showing, the Algerine--for such she proved to be--might have shirked a conflict; but Captain Jeremy's blood was up, and he swore that he'd give the rascally sea-rovers a lesson that they would not be likely to forget.

Our crew--for most of them had smelt powder before, having served in the Dutch wars--maintained perfect discipline, keeping well out of sight; yet they stood grasping tackles and handspikes, ready at the signal to run out their guns and deliver a crashing broadside.

"They do not fear to press her," observed the master gunner, "though they do not seek to gain the weather gauge. Think you that they'll dare to board, sir?"

"With this sea running? Aye, they'll try to run under our lee and throw a score of their ruffianly crew aboard us. And were we a peaceful trading craft they'd do it, though the sea were twice as high. Smart helmsmen most of those rascals are. I call to mind a Spanish captain I met in Cadiz nine years agone, who told me how his vessel, a xebec, was carried by an Algerine ship in this fashion, and in a heavy Levanter, to boot. But now, Master Touchstone, to your station!"

The Algerine was now but a few hundred yards astern, the foam flying from her sharp bows as they cleft the water. She had put up her helm and was bearing down on our lee quarter, doubtless to board in the manner that Captain Jeremy had predicted.

Observing that those of the crew who were not at the guns had armed themselves with musket or pistol, I took hold of a musket. Thanks to my forest training, I was well accustomed to handle a gun, being reckoned a tolerable shot, though on board the _Golden Hope_ the motion of the ship put me at a disadvantage. Nevertheless, lying down on the p.o.o.p, where a score of musketeers had already taken up a like position, I awaited the opening of the engagement, though I must confess the prospect of being under fire did not seem so welcome as it had in the security of my own home, where I used to hear the tales of glorious sea fights.

The sight of Captain Jeremy helped to rea.s.sure me. He was standing a short distance from the helmsman, his feet set widely apart and his shoulders braced up, with the air of a man who knows how to keep calm and resolute in the time of danger. Alternately glancing at the tightly drawing sails and the hostile ship astern, he directed the brig's course by a gentle motion of his hand, a signal that the quick-witted quartermaster knew how to obey.

"Stand by the weather after braces," the Captain shouted, and in response to the order the men rushed to man the ropes that served to trim the sails.

"Are you ready, master gunner?"

"Aye, aye, sir."

The Algerine was now barely one hundred yards astern, having achieved her object of getting to lee'ard of us. I could see her lofty fo'c'sle crowded with men--brown, black, aye, and even white faces, for renegades were to be found in the service of the infidels. Some of the crew wore turbans and flowing robes, others a kind-of hooded garment that reached to the knees; but the majority were naked from the waist upwards. With scimitar, spear, pistol, and musket they crowded ready for a spring upon our decks, while they rent the air with shouts of defiance and rage, which were borne to our ears by the wind.

"Ready all! Ease the helm down!"

The _Golden Hope_ gave a swift, and graceful turn, so that she exposed the whole of her larboard broadside to her enemy. Then, as the Algerine likewise put her helm down to avoid a collision that would doubtless have proved fatal to both craft, nine of our vessel's guns were run out, and a crashing volley was poured into our entrapped foe.

When the smoke had cleared away I saw a sight that I shall never forget. The fo'c'sle, swept by a hail of bullets, was covered by a writhing ma.s.s of dead and wounded men; her bows were beaten in by the solid shot; while her foremast, cut off about six feet from the deck, had fallen to lee'ard, bringing with it the heavy lateen yard and sail, and crushing in its descent several of the crew who were in the waist.

Owing to the high seas that were running, the Algerine had been unable to use her oars; but the luckless slaves, chained to their benches, did not escape the hail of shot, much as we should have wished otherwise.

Amidst the clamour of shrieks, groans, and maledictions, for the havoc our broadside had caused was immense, two white men sprang over the side of the Algerine and began to swim in our direction.

"There are some slaves escaping," shouted one of our seamen from the fo'c'sle.

"Where away?" asked Captain Jeremy.

"Dead astern, sir."

"Then 'bout ship. I'll do my best to pick them up. Yon rascals will give us no more trouble."

'Twas no easy task, for by the time the _Golden Hope's_ bow was pointed towards the spot where two heads could be discerned as they rose upon the crest of a wave, we were nearly a quarter of a mile away, while the disabled Algerine, drifting bodily with the wind and falling broadside on to the breakers, was doomed to a terrible fate on the rock-bound coast.

To get the two poor fugitives on board seemed impossible, for no boat could live in such a sea. Even our guns' crews were at times working up to the knees in water as they strove to secure their guns, now that they were no longer required. But by means of a line attached to a barrico and veered out to lee'ard, one of the men was hauled up over the brig's side. The second slave was not so fortunate. He must have been wounded, for he was seen to be swimming very feebly; and ere the line came within his grasp he sank, in spite of a gallant effort on the part of his companion to save him.

Meanwhile the _Golden Hope_ was put on her former course, or nearly so, for in the pursuit and action--though the latter lasted but a minute at the outside--we had drifted to within a dangerous distance of the sh.o.r.e, where the surf was licking the face of the frowning cliff towards which the Algerine was rapidly being carried.