Shortly after he had descended into the cabin, his daughter arrived. A
bright lamp was swinging; the remains of supper were upon the table. The
girl looked fiercely under her black crooked brows at her father, and
said, in a voice of hot contempt--
'What right have you on board this ship?'
'The right of a father,' shouted the commander, 'to fetch his daughter
away from a pirate and a smuggler.'
'You cannot separate us,' she cried.
'You shall go ashore with me, or I shall stick to this ship,' he
answered.
She arched her mouth into a sneer, and said, 'I would advise you to
leave us to our fate. You are never likely to hear of us; and your
reputation, of which you think highly, will be safe. If you
interfere---- But, as it is, you have already given the news to the
revenue cutter on our quarter, even whilst our own sailors may be
considering whether they shall sail in the ship or not.'
As she spoke these words, there was a sharp hail abeam, quite audible
in the cabin. It was not answered from the brig, which was now sheeting
through the sea under tall leaning heights, beating the water into
sifted snow with the drive of her round bows. The hail was repeated. A
minute later the _Gypsy_ was fired at; the glare of the gun illuminated
the little cabin port-hole. The shot made the old hull thrill, and she
broke off somewhat wildly to a sudden frightened whirl of smoke. The
commander, fully expecting that Captain Jackman would heave-to, rushed
on deck just in time to behold some men abaft the wheel of the _Gypsy_
bringing a nine-pounder to bear upon the little foaming hull. As he
rushed to the side, the gun was fired. A sharp sound of crackling
followed, and, more to the consternation than the gratification,
perhaps, of the brig's company, they beheld the fabric of mainmast cut
sheer in halves by the shot, and the whole litter and smother of gear
and canvas encumbering the deck. She came to a stand. The _Gypsy_ sped
on.
'Do you know what you have done, sir?' cried the commander.
'I have served him as I intend to serve others,' was the answer. 'You
stand in my way. I am an honest man; this is a clean ship. What law can
justify that scoundrel in firing at me?'
'Your refusal to answer the hail of a king's ship. What are you bringing
yourself into?' And with something frantic in his manner, the old fellow
went in long strides to the stern of the vessel.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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