The pirate captain seemed to be possessed by a spirit of fierce and reckless joviality that day.  His usual calm, self-possessed demeanor quite forsook him.  He issued his orders in a voice of thunder and with an air of what, for want of a better expression, we may term ferocious heartiness.  He generally executed these orders himself, hurling the men violently out of his way as if he were indignant at their tardiness, although they sprang to obey as actively as usual; indeed, more so, for they were overawed and somewhat alarmed by this unwonted conduct on the part of their captain.

The fact was, that Gascoyne had for a long time past desired to give up his course of life and amend his ways; but he discovered, as all wicked men discover sooner or later, that, while it is easy to plunge into evil courses, it is by no means easy—­on the contrary it is extremely difficult—­to give them up.  He had formed his resolution and had laid his plans; but all had miscarried.  Being a man of high temper, he had been driven almost to desperation, and sought relief to his feelings in physical exertion.

Of all the men in the Avenger, however, no one was so much alarmed by the captain’s conduct as the first mate, between whom and Gascoyne there had been a bitter feeling for some time past; and Manton knew (at least he believed) that it would be certain death to him if he should chance to thwart his superior in the mood in which he then was.

“That was a good shot, Manton,” said Gascoyne, with a wild laugh, as the fore-topsail yard of the Talisman came rattling down on the deck, having been cut away by a shot from Long Tom.

“It was; but that was a better one,” said Manton, pointing to the boom of the schooner’s mainsail, which was cut in two by a round shot, just as the captain spoke.

“Good, very good,” observed the latter, with an approving nod; “but that alters the game.  Down with the helm! steady!”

“Get the wreck of that boom cleared away, Manton; we won’t want the mainsail long.  Here comes a squall.  Look sharp.  Close reef topsails.”

The boom was swaying to and fro so violently that three of the men who sprang to order were hurled by it into the lee scuppers.  Gascoyne darted towards the broken spar and held it fast, while Manton quickly severed the ropes that fastened it to the sail and to the deck, then the former hurled it over the side with as much ease as if it had been an oar.

“Let her away now.”

“Why, that will run us right into the Long Shoal!” exclaimed Manton, anxiously, as the squall which had been approaching struck the schooner and laid her almost on her beam ends.

“I know it,” replied Gascoyne, curtly, as he thrust aside the man at the wheel and took the spokes in his own hands.

“It’s all we can do to find our way through that place in fine weather,” remonstrated the mate.

“I know it,” said Gascoyne, sternly.