Now the _Gauntlet_, as the reader will remember, sailed in ballast,
and therefore carried herself pretty high in the water. Moreover,
our enemies ran in and grappled us just forward of her quarter, where
she carried a movable panel in her bulwarks to give access to an
accommodation ladder. While Nat, Captain Pomery, Mr. Fett, and the
two seamen ran to defend the other side, at a nod from my father I
thrust this panel open, leapt back, and Mr. Badcock aiding, ran the
little gun out, while my father depressed its muzzle over the boat.
In our excess of zeal we had nearly run her overboard; indeed, I
believe that overboard she would have gone had not my father applied
the red-hot iron in the nick of time. The explosion that followed
not only flung us staggering to right and left, but lifted her on its
recoil clean out of her rickety carriage, and kicked her back and
half-way across the deck.
Recovering myself, I gripped my musket and ran to the bulwarks.
A heave of the swell had lifted the boat up to receive our discharge,
which must have burst point-blank upon her bottom boards; for I
leaned over in bare time to see her settling down in a swirl beneath
the feet of her crew, who, after vainly grabbing for hold at the
_Gauntlet's_ sides, flung themselves forward and were swimming one
and all in a sea already discoloured for some yards with blood.
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