Corsair Read Online Free PDF Page A

merchantman as a pirate. Pull down those pennants and that green flag and run up someone else’s colours and she could be Dutch or French or a Brandenburger as much as Turk. That’s why ships avoid one another when they meet at sea, just in case of trouble.’

    T HE FOLLOWING AFTERNOON almost proved Dunton wrong. The captives were on deck taking their exercise when a distant sail was sighted from the masthead. Hector noticed Hakim Reis gazing intently in the direction of the approaching vessel before the prisoners were hustled back down into the hold and shut in. Dunton stayed on the lower rungs of the ladder, his head cocked to one side, listening. There was a squeal of ropes running through the wooden blocks. ‘Hullo, they’re bringing the topsails amain,’ he commented. Soon afterwards there was a tramp of feet heading towards the stern. ‘And there they go to peak the mizzen. They’re heaving to.’
    ‘What does that mean?’ asked Hector in a whisper.
    ‘They’re stopping the ship, waiting for the other one to catch up,’ Dunton explained as Hector felt the motion of the vessel change. Where before the ship had been sailing at a slant, now she was level and pitching up and down gently on the waves.
    Dunton sat down against the side of the hold. ‘No hurry, younker,’ he said. ‘It’ll be some time before that other sail catches up with us, three or four hours at least.’
    ‘Who do you think it is?’
    ‘No idea,’ answered the sailor. ‘But my guess is that our captain is a foxy one. He’ll pretend he is a friendly vessel, hang out some convenient flag, and wait for the visitor to come close enough, then close and board him. Take him by surprise.’
    ‘Not fire at him?’
    ‘A corsair doesn’t use his cannon except in emergency. He doesn’t want to damage his prey. Best lay board and board, and seize the other vessel with a rush of men.’
    An air of excitement had also brought the other prisoners to life. Even the most depressed villager started to look hopeful of rescue. Newland, the cloth merchant, called enquiringly, ‘Friend or foe, sailor?’
    Dunton merely shrugged.
    It must have been about three hours later – there was no way to mark the passage of time below deck – when suddenly an order was shouted on the deck above, and the prisoners heard the scamper of running feet. ‘Hello,’ said Dunton. ‘Something’s not what was expected.’
    There were more shouts and then the chanting of a work song, its refrain urgent and forceful. ‘They’re setting sail again, and in a hurry,’ commented the sailor. Within moments the prisoners could again hear the ripple of the waves along the flanks of the ship, and feel the vessel heel to the wind. A flat thud in the distance was followed by two more. ‘Cannon!’ announced Dunton. More cries on deck, and the answering bang of a cannon from directly above them. The vessel quivered with the recoil. ‘God grant that we are not hit. If we sink, we’ll never get out of here alive,’ muttered Newland the mercer in sudden alarm. Hector glanced at the villagers. Their earlier hopes of being rescued had turned to dismay. Several were on their knees, hands clasped in silent prayer, eyes shut tight. ‘What’s going on?’ he asked the Devon sailor. Dunton was still straining to hear the noises on deck. ‘Wish I knew their language. No way of knowing. But my guess is that we’re the chase.’ Again Hector felt frustrated by his lack of sea lore.
    ‘Does that mean we are in pursuit?’
    ‘No, the chase is the vessel which is pursued.’
    ‘God grant us salvation!’ pleaded the cooper. ‘Praise the Lord for his Mercy. He who watches over us! Let us pray together for our liberation.’ He began to hum a psalm.
    ‘Shut up!’ snapped Dunton. ‘I’m trying to hear what is going on.’
    The cooper ignored him, and his co-religionists in the hold began a dirge which drowned out all but the distant occasional thud of the cannon fire which, as