I noticed that a buoy had been fixed to the end of the cable inboard.

“What’s that for?” I asked Dilly, who lay at my side.

“’Tis ready to be flung over,” he replied, “so as to mark the position of our cable when it is sent by the board.  We’ll come back for it anon.”

When the vessel was about a mile distant, our captain gave the order to fling the cable overboard, then shouted: 

“Hard up, wear ship.”

We sprang to the braces, the ship spun round, and there we were on the starboard tack heading straight for the stranger.  ’Twas clear then that she thought something was amiss, for she tried to put about and run for it; but being greatly hampered by her stern sails and the press of canvas she was carrying, by the time she had come round we had gained a good quarter mile upon her.  The wind had freshened, and in some ten minutes our captain gave the order to haul the tarpaulin off Long Tom, the biggest of eight guns we carried, and give the Frenchman a pill.  The gun was already loaded, and Bill Garland, the best shot aboard, of whose skill I had heard not a little from his messmates, laid it carefully and took aim, and then for a minute I could see nothing for the cloud of smoke.  I sprang up in my excitement; ’twas the first shot I had ever seen fired, and the roar of it made me tingle and throb.  But old Dilly pulled me down.

“Not so fast, long shanks,” he said.  “Our turn’s a-coming.”

“Did he hit her?” I asked, dropping down beside him.

“Clean through the mizzen topsail,” he replied, “but done no more harm than blowing your nose.”

The gun was reloaded, and Bill was about to fire again when the captain sang out to him to wait a little, for we were sailing two feet to the Frenchman’s one, and drawing rapidly within point-blank range.

“He’s loaded with chain shot this time,” said Dilly, “and that’s a terrible creature for clearing a deck or cutting up rigging.  If Bill have got his eye we’ll see summat according.”

The gun spoke, and when the smoke had cleared we saw that the shot had cut through the Frenchman’s mizzen and main weather rigging, bringing down the top masts with all their hamper of sails.  Even to my inexperienced eye it was clear that the barque was crippled and lay at our mercy.  She still kept her flag flying, however, and as we drew nearer we could see a throng of soldiers upon her decks, she being without doubt a transport returning from the French possessions in the West Indies.  She fired a shot or two at us, but they fell short, her ordnance plainly being no match for ours, so we had nothing to do but heave to and rake her at our pleasure.  After a couple of broadsides that made havoc on her decks, she suddenly struck her flag, and of our crew I was perhaps the only one who did not cheer, for it seemed to me that none but a craven would have yielded so easily, and I was longing for the excitement of boarding.  We ran up to windward of her, and Captain Cawson, keeping the port broadside trained on her in case of treachery, sent an armed boat’s crew in charge of the first mate to take possession of her.