Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 07
General
Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 07
Scottish Borders (Scotland) -- Fiction
"'Oh ho!' exclaimed old 'Broughty;' 'none of your tricks upon
travellers, my lad--you are no more British than I am a kail-stock; and
that we will very soon ascertain, by putting a few homethrust questions
to you.' So saying, he ordered two shots to be fired across her bows.
Upon finding that we were disposed to grapple with her, she instantly
hoisted her own colours, and sent a broadside right across our quarters.
The battle now began in good earnest, and, for a full half-hour, we
bowled away as if all hell had been on deck. When the smoke cleared a
little, we could see that we had disabled our adversary, by shooting
away part of his rigging; and the captain's orders were to arm and board
instantly. We rushed on board like furies; but, in the desperate
struggle, our captain fell, and almost every officer on board. There was
the hesitation of a moment, which determined our fate; for the
dare-devils rushed in upon us, fore and aft, and made sad work of it.
Not a man, with the exception of myself, the first lieutenant, and the
steward, was spared; the cutlass and the deep soon obliterated the
gallant crew of the Thunderer. It was, indeed, an awful sight; and,
expecting every moment to be put to some horrid death by the monsters, I
leaped from the deck into the sea, and remember nothing more till I
awoke, as I conceived, in a state of future punishment. But over me
there hung a countenance with which I was too well acquainted ever to
mistake it: it was that of Mary Walker, my first, and dearest, and never
entirely forgotten love. Her father sat by, wrung his hands in absolute
despair; and Mary's face was strangely altered--wan, shrunk, and full of
extreme misery. I scarcely could credit my senses, and was on the point
of coming to some explanation, when a terrible tramping and bustle on
board bespoke some approaching crisis. It was so. A British seventy-four
was in the act of bearing straight down upon the crippled privateer, and
the scarcely less disabled Thunderer, and all on board was despair and
distraction. Resistance was found to be out of the question; so, in less
than an hour, we were all conveyed safely on board of the
Neptune--Captain Briggs commander. We were immediately carried into
Kingston, and landed, at our own desire--Mr Walker having satisfied
Captain Briggs in regard to my discharge from His Majesty's service."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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