, as he steadied the wheel by his legs and bit a quid from his
plug of niggerhead to last him to suck for the remainder of the watch,
when, glancing beneath the bulging folds of the lee clew of the
main-sail, he clapped both hands again on the steering spokes, and
shouted,

"Mr. Mate, here's a sail close under our lee beam!"

"Where?" said Binks. But, before he had fairly time to run over to the
other side of the vessel and take a look for himself, a quick rattle of
oars was heard as a boat grated against the brig's side, and, before you
could think, a swarm of fellows started up like so many shadows above
the rail. In five seconds they had jumped on the deck, Ben fell like a
bullock from a blow from the butt-end of a pistol, the helm was jammed
hard down, the lee braces let fly, and, as the old brig gave a lurching
yaw in bringing her nose to windward, the weather leeches shivered
violently in the wind, and, taking flat aback, the studding-sail booms
snapped short off at the irons, and, with the sails, fell slamming and
thumping below.

[Illustration: THE PIRATES BOARDING THE BRIG.]

Meanwhile the mate had barely time to spring to the companion-way and
sing out, "We're boarded by pirates, Captain Blunt!" when he, too,
received an ugly overhand lick from a cutlass on his skull, and went
senseless and bleeding down the hatchway like a scuttle of coals.

At the first noise, however, the black Banou sprang to his feet, and, as
he caught a glimpse of the fellows swarming over the side, he snatched
hold of the ensign halliards where the signal lantern had been bent on,
and in an instant it was dancing away up to the gaff, shrouded from view
to leeward of the vessel by the spread of the spanker. In another moment
the black leaped to the deck cabin and darted through the door. But in
less time than it has taken to tell it, the "Martha Blunt" had changed
hands.

There, on the quarter-deck, stood in groups some sixteen barefooted
villains, in coarse striped gingham shirts, loose trowsers, and
skull-caps, and all with glittering, naked knives or cutlasses, and
pistols in their belts and hands. In the midst of this cluster of
swarthy wretches, near the companion-way, stood a burly, square-built
ruffian, with a pistol in his right hand, and his dexter paw pushing up
a brown straw hat as he ran his fingers across his dripping forehead and
a tangled mass of carroty, unshorn locks. There was a wisp of a red silk
kerchief tied i