llowed a silence again, and
still the _Merry Maid_ came on as if to impale herself on the
galley's beak.

And then, suddenly, when in five minutes the vessels must have
collided, round flew the frigate's wheel. For a minute and a half
she fetched up as if awaking to the consequences of her folly;
shuddered and shook against the wind; and, as her sails filled again,
fetched away on the westerly tack for her life.

For a full two minutes the French were taken aback.

"Fools, fools!" shouted M. de la Pailletine, beside himself with joy.

The order flew for the slaves on the larboard benches to hold water
for a minute and the galley's head came round. Nothing gives more
spirit than a flying enemy. From mouth to mouth ran the whisper that
the English were showing their heels; and in a moment these poor
devils, who owed all their misery to France, were pulling like
madmen. Jeers rose from the deck.

"If Monsieur the Englishman does not strike within two minutes, down
he goes to the bottom."

"The idiot, to expose his stern!"

"On the whole, it is just as well that _La Merveille_ is so far
behind. We shall have all the glory to ourselves--eh, my children?"

On board the frigate Captain Barker said four words only:

"Take the wheel, Jemmy."

Captain Runacles stepped to it and the steersman gave place.

In truth the hunchback, though this was his first acquaintance with a
galley, knew well enough that she would strike for the frigate's
stern as the weakest point. This was precisely what he wished her to
do.

Captain Runacles stood with his hand on the wheel and waited,
glancing back over his shoulder.

Captain Barker stood by the taffrail with one eye upon the galley and
his face turned in profile to his friend. His right hand was lifted.

The Commodore had made all his dispositions. The galley was to
plunge her beak straight into the _Merry Maid's_ stern, and its crew,
after one discharge of cannon to clear the frigate's poop, were to
board at once. The men stood ready with their hatchets and cutlasses
and set up a wild yell as they drove straight for her. From below
the slaves echoed it with a melancholy wail.

On they tore. As they yelled again, _L'Heureuse's_ beak was but
thirty yards from her prey. A few more leaps and it would strike.

"One--two--"

The little man looked back in their faces and smiled.

"Three--four--five--"

He dropped his hand. Quick as lightning Captain Jerry sp