Nothing easier than to
slip out of her way could they get the foresail to draw; but the time was
short, the deadly intention manifest, the coming destruction swift.
After that solemn silence came a storm of cries and curses, as their
seamen went to work to fit the yard and raise the sail while their
fighting men seized their matchlocks and trained the guns. They were well
commanded by an heroic able villain. Astern the consort thundered; but
the _Agra's_ response was a dead silence more awful than broadsides.
For then was seen with what majesty the enduring Anglo-Saxon fights.
One of that indomitable race on the gangway, one at the foremast, two at
the wheel, conned and steered the great ship down on a hundred matchlocks
and a grinning broadside, just as they would have conned and steered her
into a British harbour.
"Starboard!" said Dodd, in a deep calm voice, with a motion of his hand.
"Starboard it is."
The pirate wriggled ahead a little. The man forward made a silent signal
to Dodd.
"Port!" said Dodd quietly.
"Port it is."
But at this critical moment the pirate astern sent a mischievous shot and
knocked one of the men to atoms at the helm.
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