But he did not read my countenance; he called one of the men out of the line, made him give me some water from his bottle, and bent down on his knees by poor Tom Jecks.
"Ha!" he said; "fever from a wound.

Give him some water too, my lad." He sprang to his feet then, and I understood why he had not gone in pursuit of our enemies, for just then there was a sharp volley from over the ridge somewhere.
"Ha! that's got them," said Mr Reardon, turning to me.

"We divided, my lad! half of us came along the top of the cliff, the other half along the shore." There was another volley, and I saw Mr Reardon smile as he gave the orders, and out flashed the men's cutlasses, and were fixed with a quick tingling rattle on the muzzles of their rifles.
"Here they come, sir," cried the warrant officer at the far end of the line.
"Yes, my lad, and we're ready for them.

Now, one volley as soon as they are together, boys, and then the blades.

Bayonet every wretch who does not throw down his arms." A low murmur ran along the little line, and I saw our men's eyes flash in the evening sun.
But the excitement was not complete, for, gathering strength now, and recovering from the shock I had received, I was watching the pirates scrambling over the ridge in haste, as if pursued, when there was a concussion of the air, a heavy boom, and I saw the _Teaser_ come into sight, passing through the channel south of where we stood.