A hearty laugh was heard in all parts of the Tigris, and the
brig, putting her helm hard up, wore round like a top, as if she were
scalded herself.[*]
[Footnote *: This incident actually occurred in the war of 1798]
We all expected a broadside now; but of that there was little
apprehension, as it was pretty certain we carried the heaviest
battery, and had men enough to work it. But the brig did not fire, I
suppose because we fell off a little ourselves, and she perceived it
might prove a losing game. On the contrary, she went quite round on
her heel, hauling up on the other tack far enough to bring the two
vessels exactly _dos a dos_. Captain Digges ordered two of the
quarter-deck nines to be run out of the stern-ports; and it was well
he did, for it was not in nature for men to be treated as our friends
in the brig had been served, without manifesting certain signs of
ill-humour. The vessels might have been three cables' lengths asunder
when we got a gun. The first I knew of the shot was to hear it plunge
through the mizen-top-sail, then it came whistling through my top,
between the weather-rigging and the mast-head, cutting a hole through
the main-top-sail, and, proceeding onward, I heard it strike something
more solid than canvass. I thought of Rupert and the fore-top in an
instant, and looked anxiously down on deck to ascertain if he were
injured.
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