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Chapter 18
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The pier was not far distant from the house in which Joanna lay; it
now only remained to get the men on shore, to surround the house
with a strong party, burst in the door and carry off the captive.
They might then regard themselves as done with the Good Hope; it
had placed them on the rear of their enemies; and the retreat,
whether they should succeed or fail in the main enterprise, would
be directed with a greater measure of hope in the direction of the
forest and my Lord Foxham's reserve.
To get the men on shore, however, was no easy task; many had been
sick, all were pierced with cold; the promiscuity and disorder on
board had shaken their discipline; the movement of the ship and the
darkness of the night had cowed their spirits. They made a rush
upon the pier; my lord, with his sword drawn on his own retainers,
must throw himself in front; and this impulse of rabblement was not
restrained without a certain clamour of voices, highly to be
regretted in the case.
When some degree of order had been restored, Dick, with a few
chosen men, set forth in advance. The darkness on shore, by
contrast with the flashing of the surf, appeared before him like a
solid body; and the howling and whistling of the gale drowned any
lesser noise.
He had scarce reached the end of the pier, however, when there fell
a lull of the wind; and in this he seemed to hear on shore the
hollow footing of horses and the clash of arms. Checking his
immediate followers, he passed forward a step or two alone, even
setting foot upon the down; and here he made sure he could detect
the shape of men and horses moving. A strong discouragement
assailed him. If their enemies were really on the watch, if they
had beleaguered the shoreward end of the pier, he and Lord Foxham
were taken in a posture of very poor defence, the sea behind, the
men jostled in the dark upon a narrow causeway. He gave a cautious
whistle, the signal previously agreed upon.
It proved to be a signal far more than he desired. Instantly there
fell, through the black night, a shower of arrows sent at a
venture; and so close were the men huddled on the pier that more
than one was hit, and the arrows were answered with cries of both
fear and pain. In this first discharge, Lord Foxham was struck
down; Hawksley had him carried on board again at once; and his men,
during the brief remainder of the skirmish, fought (when they
fought at all) without guidance. That was perhaps the chief cause
of the disaster which made haste to follow.
At the shore end of the pier, for perhaps a minute, Dick held his
own with a handful; one or two were wounded upon either side; steel
crossed steel; nor had there
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