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 and the men of the after-gun and smashed into the Good Fortune's waist near the port rail as she rose on a billowing wave. Thence it ranged forward along the deck, its force almost spent, and Lachlan saw it and saw the devastation that it wrought.

Men went down before it like ninepins in some bowling game of the giants—man after man in swift succession until six men had fallen. Far forward the ball struck the carriage of one of the bow guns, knocked it sideways and, being deflected to the right, rolled across the deck, breaking another man's legs before it came to rest. Of the seven who had fallen only one man rose, and he ran screaming towards the cabin, his hand pressed to his side, crying that his back was broken. He slipped in a pool of blood, fell sprawling, and lay still; and behind him another fallen man stirred, reared slowly to his knees, toppled backward.

Falcon gripped Diccon Drews' arm, bade him take the wheel, then strode forward along the heaving deck. Lachlan followed, not knowing why. Close to the mainmast Falcon halted.

"Men," he roared, "a half-hour more and we can run for Edisto Inlet. It will be a half-hour of hell. Will you stand the gaff till then, or will you hoist the white flag?"

He quelled with his raised hand the shout that arose.

"Surrender'll mean life to most of you. Black Lowther wants me and Diccon Drews and half a