But the shots would set the privateer
on the alert, and we must run no risks of encountering her. So,
instead of running straight out into the channel, we stood away up
the coast, keeping the brig close-hauled. She proved somewhat slow
in working to windward, but we were now almost totally enveloped in
darkness, and by hugging the shore were not so likely to be
descried from the privateer as if we ran out to sea.
Unluckily this gave the pursuers some advantage of us. Looking in
our wake, I by and by discerned three smacks in full chase, and
perceived that they were steadily overhauling us. The brig carried
a brass gun, and I thought it well to get her ready for use, though
I was determined not to fire save in extremity, since the flash
would apprise the privateer of our direction and bring her on our
track. But the distance between us and the leading smack grew less
and less, and knowing that we dare not allow them to close in upon
us (for doubtless their crews vastly outnumbered ours and would
overpower us if they got the chance to board), I at length, when
our enemy was within about half a cable's length of us, called to
the bosun to fire, aiming to hull her just below water line.
He set his match to the touch hole, and the round shot flew forth.
I could not tell whether the smack was hit or not, but 'twas clear
that she had suffered little or no damage, for she came on as fast
as ever. The bosun reloaded in all haste, and fired again when she
could not have been above fifty yards distant.
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