Farther than this they could not fly, because the stout chains which
fastened them were but ten feet long. Tristram, indeed, was hurled
scarcely so far as the rest, for his seat was the inmost from the
gangway, and right against the galley's side; so that he got the
shortest swing of the oar.
They scrambled up just as the fire of grape-shot opened. And then
Tristram made an appalling discovery.
The hole through which their oar was worked had been split wider by
the crash; and now, looking out, he saw that it lay just opposite the
mouth of an English cannon. In this position they had been brought
up by the frigate's grappling-irons.
It took him but an instant to see also that the cannon, as it stared
him in the face, was loaded.
The two vessels, moreover, lay so close that by reaching up with his
hand he could have laid his hand on its muzzle.
It was a horrible moment. There were four Frenchmen and a Turk
ranged along the bench beside him. He looked into their faces. They
were ashen grey to the lips. No one could move to get out of the
way: the chains prevented that. The Huguenot was praying wildly.
Only the Turk preserved his composure, and even he had turned pale
under his bronze skin.
Somebody cried: "Lie flat!"
In a second every one of Tristram's companions had flung himself flat
on the bench.
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