boarded aft," they heard a voice shout,
and three or four seamen, with gleaming cutlasses, came springing
towards them.

"No, no, we are friends; we are Englishmen," shouted Roger and Stephen
in chorus. "Save us! save us! We are escaping from the Moors." They
could scarcely get the words out in time to prevent the sailors from
making mince-meat of them.

"I do believe they are Englishmen," cried one of the men.

"All right," cried one of the seamen. "Lie quiet, or, if you like, you
will find some spare cutlasses in the companion-hatch; go and get them
and help us."

"There is another Englishman on board who wants to escape," cried Roger,
remembering poor Sam. "Try and save him if you can."

"Ay, ay," answered the sailor, who the next instant sprang back to hack
and slash away at the Moors, who were endeavouring to gain a footing on
board. As yet, fiercely as they were fighting, the Moors had gained no
advantage. Some indeed had reached the deck, but it was only to pay the
penalty of temerity with their lives, for not one had succeeded in
gaining a footing. Roger, looking up, recognised the Captain of the
English ship; there was no doubt about it, he was Captain Benbow. With
a huge hanger in his hand he was slashing away furiously at the enemy,
driving back some, cutting down others. Roger and Stephen made their
way to the companion-hatch, where they procured a couple of hangers and
joined the brave Captain. They were seen by the rovers, several of
whom, uttering expressions of rage, attempted to get at them, and paid
the penalty of their daring with their lives, being cut down by the
British seamen the moment they reached the deck. The rovers fought with
desperation, believing that they could quickly overcome the small crew
opposed to them. Fresh gangs, summoned by their Captain, were
attempting to leap on board, when suddenly the grapnels gave way. While
some were still clinging to the sides of the _Benbow_ frigate, the
vessels parted, and the _Tiger_ forged ahead. Ere many seconds were
over not a boarder remained alive; some were hurled into the sea, others
fell inside the bulwarks on to the deck.

"Now, ply them with the great guns," cried Captain Benbow.

His crew, reloading them and running them out, in spite of the bodies
which cumbered the deck, sent such showers of shot on board the rover
that she did not again attempt to close, Hamet evidently considering her
so tough a customer that he