Loud were the yells and cheers on board the _Noank_ as her crew saw their most dangerous antagonist go under water, sinking all the faster because of the heavy cannon. Of course, the sailors whose boat had so unexpectedly gone out from under them were all picked up, but not one of them had saved pike or musket. The attacking force had therefore been diminished seriously, and there had also been many minutes of delay.
"Captain," said Groot, "I'll send another pill among them, whiles they're clustered so close together."
"Not a shot!" sharply commanded Captain Avery. "I'm thinkin'! Men! It's more'n likely there are 'pressed Americans on those boats. I won't risk it. We must get away."
"Ay, ay, sir," came heartily back from many voices. "Let 'em go."
That was what saved the really beaten British tars from any more heavy shot, and the _Noank_ was all the while increasing her distance. The only remaining danger to her now was the mighty _Solway_, and her sails, full set, could be seen and studied by the glasses on the schooner.
"She's the first big ship I ever saw under full sail," said Guert to Groot. "I've only seen 'em in port."
"You'd be of little good on her till after you'd served awhile," said the Dutchman, in his own tongue. "It isn't even every British captain that can handle a seventy-four as she ought to be handled."
Whoever was in charge of the _Solway_ now, she was sailing faster than the _Noank_, and things were looking badly. So said one of his old neighbors to Captain Lyme Avery, only to be answered by a chuckle.
"Jest calc'late," he added, quite cheerfully. "A starn chase is always a long chase. They won't be gettin' into range for their best guns till about dark. Then I'll show ye. Vine, make a barrel raft! Sharp!"
Up from the hold came quickly a dozen or so of empty barrels, and these were carpentered together with planks so as to make a skeleton deck. In the middle of this was rigged a spar like a mast, and the raft was ready.
All the sailors believed they knew what was coming. It was an old, old, trick, as old as the hills, but it might be the thing to try in this case.
On came the stately line-of-battle ship, as the shadows deepened. She was slowly gaining in spite of the _Noank_ having every inch of her canvas spread. She would soon be near enough to fly her bow chasers. If these were heavy enough, there would then be nothing left the American privateer but prompt surrender. The next half-hour was, therefore, a time of breathless anxiety.