directions, and making the coxswain shout to his men to stand firm,
as, seeing their perilous position, he hurried to their help, for the
big schooner had slipped her cable, a sail had been run up, and she was
beginning to answer her helm, while the _Maid of Salcombe_ was drifting
helplessly towards the shore.

It was a choice between hoisting sail and letting go another anchor
while the chance was there, as the two vessels forged slowly ahead
preparing to send in another shot.

This latter in his excitement Joe Cross essayed to do, striking their
enemy just at the water-line as she passed them, while now the slaver's
sister craft began firing as she too, hoisting sail, was coming
up-stream.

"Ah!" panted the sailor, as he turned to Uncle Paul. "Here's your
peaceful schooner, sir, as trades in palm-oil! Why, they are pirates
and slavers, sir, and I've done it now. Too late, my lads--too late!"
he cried to the men, who had let go the other anchor. "Nothing can save
us now. We are going ashore."

"Oh, don't give up, man," cried the doctor angrily.

"I won't, sir. None of us will; but--There, I said as much. We just
touched bottom then. There she goes again! And in another minute we
shall be fast in the mud, and they'll have nothing to do but powder away
at us till we are a wreck. Slew that there gun round, boys, and let's
give her another shot or two while there's a chance."

"No, no," cried Rodd. "Not at that! Fire at the other. Can't you see,
Joe? Uncle! Morny! The three-master's going down!"

It was quite true, for the first shot from the _Maid of Salcombe_, that
sent from the long gun, crammed as Joe had said almost to the muzzle,
had torn into the slaver just below water-line. The second had been
just as effective in its aim, the water had been pouring in ever since,
and now, as she was evidently settling down by the head, her guns were
forsaken, all discipline was at an end, and her crew had made a rush for
the boats, which were soon after overcrowded and being pushed off by
their occupants to make for the third schooner. This last, fairly well
managed, came slowly on, firing from time to time at the English craft,
which, had now swung round upon her heel and lay bowsprit to the shore
in a falling tide.

As far as was possible her guns were slewed round, and a steady reply to
the enemy's fire was kept up; but her doom seemed to be sealed, the
Spaniard being able to choose her own position,