At last, and merely by the
weight of numbers, they were driven back. But this did the Frenchmen
no good. Instantly the frigate opened fire again and murdered them
by scores.
It was in this extremity that M. de la Pailletine cast his eyes
around and found himself forced to do what Captain Barker from the
first had meant him to do. The four galleys that had started after
the convoy were by this time sweeping along on the full tide of
success. In another five minutes the pathway to the Thames would be
blocked and all the merchant vessels at their mercy.
M. de la Pailletine hoisted the flag of distress. He called them to
his help.
A wild hurrah broke out from the crew of the frigate. The order
meant their destruction: for how could the _Merry Maid_ contend
against six galleys? Yet they cheered, for they had guessed what
their captain had in his mind. And the little man's greenish eyes
sparkled as he heard.
"Good boys!" he said briefly, turning to his friend. "The convoy is
saved, my lad: and O! but Jemmy, you did it prettily!"
_V.--The Galley (in the hold)._
Let us go back for a minute or two to Tristram.
The oar at which he tugged was one of the starboard tier; and when
_L'Heureuse_ missed her stroke, as we have told, it went like a
sugar-stick, flinging him and his companions back across the bench.
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