deeper notes of two boat-guns fired almost together, the shot of one at
least of which I heard and felt strike the hull of the brigantine.

All was now in an instant noise and confusion on deck; the silence that
had held the tongues of the crew was now no longer necessary, and the
jabber, the oaths, the shouting, the loud, defiant laughs, the rumbling
of the gun-carriages, the creaking of tackle-blocks, the thud of rammers
and sponges, the calls for cartridges, all combined to create a hubbub
that would not have shamed the builders of Babel; and through all and
above all rose Mendouca's voice in short, sharp sentences of appeal,
encouragement, and direction to his men. I could hear, by the furious
grinding of handspikes, the breathless ejaculations of the men, and the
crash of the gun-carriages as the guns were run out, that the
_Francesca's_ crew were working like demons; and almost before I could
have believed it possible, they had again loaded their guns and a second
broadside rang out over the still water, to be again followed by a still
more gruesome chorus of cries and groans, and the sudden cessation of
the sound of the oars, loud above which rose the exultant cheers of the
ruffians on deck.

"Hurrah, lads!" I heard Mendouca exclaim joyously; "load again smartly,
but with grape and canister only this time. We have checked them for a
moment, but they have not yet had enough, I fear; they will come at us
again as soon as they have picked up their shipmates, so now is your
time; load and let them have it while they are stationary!"

And while he was speaking I could also hear a voice--that, unless I was
greatly mistaken, belonged to Young, the first luff of the
_Barracouta_--exclaiming at no great distance--

"Pull starboard, back port; now back, hard, all, and let us pick up
those poor fellows before the sharks get the scent of them! Easy all;
steady, lads, steady; hold water! Now then, my hearties, lay hold of
the oars and let us get you inboard sharp; we can't afford to lie here
to be peppered. Help the wounded, those of you who are unhurt. That's
your sort, Styles, bring him along here; is he still alive, do you
think? All right, I have him! Now then, coxswain, heave with a will,
but don't hurt the poor fellow more than you can help. Gently, man,
gently; now lift handsomely, so--"

_Crash_! the relentless broadside of the _Francesca_ again pealed forth,
and again uprose that dismal wail of shriek