The Pirate Story Megapack: 25 Classic and Modern Tales

by Robert E. Howard

  “Ready about again, lads!” cried I. “Now, Mr Marchmont, it is your turn. By the time that we are fairly round the frigate’s stern will be turned directly toward you, offering an excellent mark. Let us see how many of your shot you can send in through her cabin windows, will you?”

  “Ay, ay, sir, we’ll do our best,” answered the lad, in high glee; and then I saw him pass rapidly from one captain of a gun to another, and heard him mention distinctly, in his excitement, something about “bottles of grog.”

  The men grinned, turned their quids, hitched up the waistbands of their breeches; squinted along the sights of their guns; looked at the frigate, as though measuring her distance, and then adjusted the elevation of their pieces with evidently the nicest judgment and the very best of intentions.

  Watching the frigate carefully, the helm was put down at just the right moment; and as our topsail swept round and was braced up—bang!—bang!—bang!—bang! roared our eighteens, away skipped the shot, and crash went all four of them slap into the stern of the disabled Frenchman, playing the very mischief with the gilt-ginger-bread work with which that part of the ship was profusely decorated. A rattling broadside from the brig now drew our attention to her, and we saw that she was standing toward us, close-hauled on the larboard tack, under topsails and topgallant-sails; and that she also had taken advantage of the frigate’s helpless situation to rake her most handsomely.

  The Frenchman, meanwhile, having got himself into what Courtenay would have termed “the centre of a hobble,” was very busily doing his best to get out of it again—and in a very seamanlike way, too, notwithstanding his former mistake—by clewing up and furling everything abaft his mainmast and so trimming his yards as to cause the frigate to gather stern-way and gradually pay off again. This, however, was a work of some little time, hampered as the ship was with wreck forward; and before it was done we had passed to windward of her, receiving in so doing the fire of but seven of her sixteen larboard broadside guns, to which we replied effectively with our starboard battery. Having reached far enough to weather her on our next tack we went about, and, crossing her bows, fired our larboard battery and our thirty-two pounder into her again, raking her severely and, best of all, bringing her fore-topmast down by the run. She had by this time paid off sufficiently to have gathered head-way, and her crew actually managed to get her before the wind; but it was only for a few minutes, she soon broached to again; and being by this time almost entirely bereft of head sail—her foresail alone remaining—there she hung, in the wind’s eye, helpless, and practically at our mercy. The Dolphin was at once placed in an advantageous position on the frigate’s starboard bow, and kept there by her topsail being laid aback, whilst the brig took up a corresponding position on the enemy’s starboard quarter; and we then both opened a raking fire upon her so effectually that ten minutes later she hauled down her colours and surrendered.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  The Privateer and the Indiaman

  Having satisfied ourselves that the French frigate had actually struck, we filled on the schooner and ran down under the lee of the brig, where we once more hove to; our gig was lowered and manned, and I proceeded on board to see if my services were further required.

  On reaching the deck I was met by a man of some five-and-thirty years of age, evidently the skipper of the craft, who held out his hand to me most cordially, and exclaimed:

  “Welcome, young gentleman, on board his Britannic majesty’s brig Dido. You hove in sight just in the nick of time this morning, for, but for your very effective help, we should have been the captured instead of the captors by this time. What is the name of your schooner?”

  “The Dolphin,” I replied, “cruising; sixteen days out from Port Royal.”

  “The Dolphin, eh?” said he. “Well, she is a remarkably fine and powerful craft; carries heavy metal too; and your skipper evidently knows how to handle her. What is his name, by the bye?”

  I modestly explained that I was in command of the craft; an announcement which created quite a sensation among the officers who had gathered round.

  “You!” exclaimed the skipper incredulously. “Well, then, I can only say, young gentleman, that you are shaping well—very well indeed. There is not a man in the service who could have fought that vessel more gallantly, or with better judgment than you did; and I shall take care to say so to the admiral when we get in. You have rendered a very important service, my lad, let me tell you; for you have not only saved the old Dido from being taken, and helped in the capture of a fine frigate, but you have also saved some most urgent and important despatches which we have on board. Have you lost many men in the action?”

  “Not one,” said I; “nor have we, so far as I know, a single man with a wound worth mentioning.”

  “Ah, you are lucky!” he remarked. “But for that you may thank your heavy metal and the way in which it was served; you were able to cripple the frigate before she could touch you. Well, come down into the cabin and take a glass of wine with me whilst we talk over what is next to be done. Mr Thompson, let Mr Rogers come down to me with his report when he returns from the frigate. Now then, Mr—a—ah—this way, please. By the way, I did not catch your name just now.”

  There was a very good reason for that, as I had never mentioned it to him; however, I did so then; he informed me that his name was Venn, and that he held the rank of commander, and by the time that we had come to this understanding we found ourselves in the cabin, a much smaller and plainer apartment than that of the Dolphin, by the bye.

  Wine was produced, we drank a glass together, and then my new friend proceeded to explain to me that, as the brig had suffered rather severely, and had had a great many men wounded in her running fight with the frigate, he would be obliged to draw rather heavily upon the Dolphin to make up a crew for the prize, and that, under the circumstances, he considered it would be advisable for us to accompany the Dido and her prize into Port Royal.

  This arrangement suited me very well indeed, as I thought it just possible there might be letters for me, if not from my father at least from Inez; and I was just about to return on board the schooner to give the necessary orders, when a midshipman, who had accompanied the first lieutenant of the Dido on board the prize to take possession, returned with the information that the frigate was named the Cythère, mounting thirty-two twelve-pounders, with a crew originally of three hundred and twenty-eight all told; her loss during the action amounting to thirty two killed and sixty-eight wounded, her captain being among the former.

  By eight bells in the afternoon watch we had managed to make up between us and transfer to the frigate a very respectable prize-crew, after which hawsers were passed on board the prize from the Dido and the Dolphin, the brig taking up a position upon the frigate’s larboard bow whilst we stationed ourselves on the starboard, when sail was made upon both the towing vessels and we shaped a course for Jamaica, the prize-crew busying themselves meanwhile in getting up new spars and repairing damages in the standing and running rigging. By daylight next morning this was so far accomplished that we were able to cast off the towing hawsers, when the three craft proceeded in company, arriving without mishap or adventure in Port Royal harbour on the morning of the sixth day succeeding the action.

  Commander Venn was as good as his word in framing his report of the capture, in consequence of which I rose higher than ever in the favour of the admiral, who showed his appreciation of our services by filling up our provisions and water with all possible speed and hurrying us off to sea again.

  As I had hoped, there were two letters for me, one from my father and one from Inez; but as the former was written in the same unsatisfactory strain as those which had preceded it, and as the latter contained nothing of interest to anyone but myself, I shall not trouble the reader with even so much as an extract from either, but pass on to incidents which were destined to very materially affect the happiness of my whole future life, and that of others as well. Having filled up our provisions
and water, as already stated, and having received on board again the hands who had helped to take the Cythère into port, we sailed once more on the second day following our arrival, and proceeded again over the ground we had already beaten so successfully. We were even more fortunate on this occasion than we had been before, though we found that it was no longer possible to take our enemies by surprise as we had done at first; they had learned wisdom from experience and had become aware of our tactics, notwithstanding which we took four privateers, one of which we cut out from under a battery, and made several recaptures, two of which proved to be very valuable. But as these incidents happened to be mere interludes, as it were, in my story, having no special significance, I shall leave them without further mention and pass on. The reader will therefore please understand that I had been in command of the Dolphin rather more than six months when the incident occurred to which I am about to refer.

  The time was about half an hour, or thereabouts, after midnight, and our position was about sixty miles south-east of Beata Point, the southernmost point on the mainland of Saint Domingo. The day had been fine, with a very nice pleasant working breeze, but as the sun had declined toward the horizon the wind had shown signs of dropping, gradually dying away after sunset, until toward the end of the first watch it had fallen so completely calm that we had furled all our canvas to save wear and tear, and were, at the time mentioned, lying under bare poles, slowly drifting with the current to the westward. The night was pitch-dark, for there was no moon, and with the dying away of the wind a great bank of heavy thunderous-looking cloud had gradually worked up from the westward, imperceptibly expanding until it had at length obscured the entire firmament, promising a thunder-storm which would doubtless be all the heavier when it broke from the length of time which it took in the brewing. I had remained on deck until midnight; but observing, when the middle watch was called, that the barometer had dropped only the merest trifle, had gone below upon the deck being relieved, and, leaving orders with young Boyne to call me in the event of any change in the weather, had flung myself, half undressed, into my cot, hoping to get a nap before the storm broke, and feeling pretty confident that when it did nothing very serious could happen, the schooner being under bare poles.

  But somehow I could not get to sleep, probably on account of the oppressive closeness of the atmosphere, for it was stiflingly hot, although the skylights and companion were wide open; and there I lay, tossing restlessly from side to side in a state of preternatural wakefulness, listening to the lap and gurgle of the water against the ship’s side, the creaking of the bulk-heads, the rattling of the hooks which held the cabin doors wide open, the yerking of the main-sheet blocks, the jerk-jerk of the rudder and of the lashed wheel above it, with the swish of the water under the counter and about the stern-post as the vessel rolled lazily upon the long sluggish swell which came creeping slowly up from the eastward. And if by chance a momentary feeling of drowsiness happened to steal over me, which, carefully fostered, might have eventually led to my falling asleep, it was sure to be put to flight by some ill-timed movement or speech by those on the deck above me, although I will do them the justice to say that, so far as speech was concerned, they spoke but seldom, and then in subdued tones. At length, however, I was going off, the varied sounds I have mentioned had lost their distinctness, had changed their character, and were beginning to merge themselves into the accompaniments of what, a few minutes later, would have been a dream, when I heard Pottle’s voice exclaim with startling suddenness:

  “Hillo! what was that?”

  To which young Boyne replied, in unmistakably sleepy tones:

  “What was what, Mr Pottle?”

  “Why,” replied Pottle, “I thought I saw—Ha! look, there it is again! Did you not see something like a flash away off there on our starboard beam?”

  “No, sir,” said Boyne, evidently a little more wide-awake, “I cannot say I did. Probably it was lightning; we must have it before long.”

  “Lightning!” exclaimed Pottle contemptuously; “d’ye think I don’t know lightning when I see it? No, it looked more like—by George, there it is again!”

  At the same moment one of the men forward hailed, but I could not catch what he said for the creaking of the bulk-heads.

  “Ay, ay, I saw it,” answered Pottle. “What did it look like to you, Martin?”

  “I thought it looked like the flash of firearms,” was the reply, which I this time heard distinctly.

  “So did I,” gruffly remarked Pottle. “Depend on’t, Mr Boyne, there’s something going on down there to the south’ard which ought to be looked into. Just step down below and give Mr Lascelles a call, will ye?”

  I sprang out of my cot, slipped my stockingless feet into my shoes, drew on my jacket, and met young Boyne at the cabin door.

  “Well, Mr Boyne,” said I, “what is the news? I heard Mr Pottle ask you to call me.”

  “Yes, sir,” said the lad. “He says he has seen something like the flash of firearms down in the southern quarter, and the lookout also has reported it.”

  “All right,” said I. “I will be up in a moment.”

  And turning up the cabin lamp for an instant to take a look at the barometer, which I found to be steady, I stumbled up the companion-ladder, and, blinking like an owl in daylight, made my way out on deck.

  “Whew!” I exclaimed, “this is darkness, indeed. Where are you, Mr Pottle?”

  “Here I am, sir,” answered the quarter-master; and turning in the direction of his voice I saw a tiny glowing spark which proved to be the ignited end of a cigar which he had between his teeth.

  “Now,” said I, as I groped my way to his side, “whereaway was this flashing appearance which you say you saw?”

  “Just about in that direction, sir,” was the reply; “or stay—we may have swung a bit since I saw it,” and he walked aft and carefully raised a jacket which he had thrown over the lighted binnacle. “No,” he continued, “that’s where it was, just sou’-sou’-west, for I took the bearing of it when I saw it the third time; and I thought that, in case of anything being wrong, it wouldn’t be amiss to mask the binnacle light.”

  “Quite right,” said I, peering first at the compass card and then away into the opaque darkness which prevented our seeing even the surface of the water alongside. It was manifestly hopeless to think of seeing anything through such impenetrable obscurity as that which surrounded us; and I was just wondering what steps to take, under the circumstances, peering meanwhile in the direction indicated by Pottle, when I caught a momentary glimpse of a tiny spark-like flash—which the ejaculations of my comrades told me they also had observed—and in another instant a glare of ghastly blue-white radiance streamed out over the sea and revealed to us two vessels alongside each other, the canvas of the one—a large lumbering full-rigged ship, gleaming spectrally in the light of the port-fire, whilst the sails of the other—a brigantine, which happened to be on the side next us—stood out black as ebony against the light. They were about two miles off; and even at that distance we could see with the naked eye that a struggle of some sort was going forward on the decks of the larger of the two craft. The nature of the affair was apparent in a moment to every one of us. The big ship was unmistakably an Indiaman, probably a fellow-countryman; at least so we judged by the imperfect view of his canvas which the flickering light of the port-fire afforded us; whilst, if appearances were to go for anything, the brigantine could be nothing else than a French picaroon. At all events our duty was now plain enough, we ought to investigate the affair without a moment’s unnecessary delay; and I accordingly gave orders for all hands to be immediately called, and for the pinnace and the two gigs to be lowered and manned. This was done with an alacrity which I venture to believe would have gratified even my old friend the admiral himself; and in less than a quarter of an hour from the moment of giving the order we were in the boats and well away from the schooner. The pinnace was in charge of the boatswain; Pottle had the command of o
ne of the gigs; and, as there seemed to be no prospect of any worse outcome, in the shape of weather, than a thunder-storm, I did not hesitate to take charge of the other gig myself, leaving Woodford in temporary command of the schooner with instructions how to proceed in the event of a breeze springing up before we were able to rejoin him.

  The port-fire on board the Indiaman having long before burnt-out, we had taken the precaution to provide each boat with a compass, the light of which was most carefully-masked; but this precaution soon proved to be unnecessary, the boats having traversed less than half the distance between the schooner and the other two vessels when vivid sheet lightning began to play along the south-western horizon, lighting up the scene with its weird radiance frequently enough to enable us to steer a perfectly straight course. The fight was still going on when we left the schooner; but it appeared to cease soon afterwards, and we came to the conclusion that the crew of the Indiaman had been overpowered and the ship taken. Our chief anxiety now was lest our approach should be discovered in time to enable the Frenchman to make preparations for resisting our attempts to board them when we should arrive alongside; but, fortunately for us, the chief play of the lightning was in the quarter almost opposite that from which we were approaching, and I was in hopes that they would be too busy just then plundering the prize to keep a very strict lookout. In this, however, I was doomed to be disappointed; for when we had arrived within a quarter of a mile of the brigantine a sudden flashing of lights appeared on board her, and before we could get alongside a broadside of four guns, loaded with grape, was hastily discharged at us. Luckily, beyond revealing the fact that we had been discovered, the broadside did us no harm; and, with a cheer, our tars bent to their oars and, with a few lusty strokes, sent us alongside with a rush.