The merchantman now lay without headway, gently rolling on the sea.  Down came the sails of the Revenge, while her motion grew slower and slower as she approached her victim.  Had Captain Bonnet been truly sailing the Revenge, he would have run by with sails all set, for not a thought had he for the management of his own vessel, so intent he was upon the capture of the other.  But fortunately Big Sam knew what was necessary to be done in a nautical manoeuvre of this kind, and his men did not all stand ready with their swords in their hands to bound upon the deck of the merchantman.  But there were enough of Pirate Bonnet’s crew crowded alongside the rail of the vessel to inspire terror in any peaceable merchantman.  And this one, although it had several carronades and other guns upon her deck, showed no disposition to use them, the odds against her being far too great.

At the very head of the long line of ruffians upon the deck of the Revenge stood Ben Greenway; and, although he held no sword and wore no pistol, his eyes flashed as brightly as any glimmering blade in the whole ship’s company.

The two vessels were now drawing very near to each other.  Men with grappling-irons stood ready to throw them, and the bow of the well-steered pirate had almost touched the side of the merchantman, when, with a bound, of which no one would have considered him capable, the good Ben Greenway jumped upon the rail and sprang down upon the deck of the other vessel.  This was a hazardous feat, and if the Scotchman had known more about nautical matters he would not have essayed it before the two vessels had been fastened together.  Ignorance made him fearless, and he alighted in safety on the deck of the merchantman at the very instant when the two vessels, having touched, separated themselves from each other for the space of a yard or two.

There was a general shout from the deck of the pirate at this performance of Ben Greenway.  Nobody could understand it.  Captain Bonnet stood and yelled.

“What are you about, Ben Greenway?  Have you gone mad?  Without sword or pistol, you’ll be—­”

The astonished Bonnet did not finish his sentence, for his power of speech left him when he saw Ben Greenway hurry up to the captain of the merchantman, who was standing unarmed, with his crew about him, and warmly shake that dumfounded skipper by the hand.  In their surprise at what they beheld the pirates had not thrown their grapnels at the proper moment, and now the two vessels had drifted still farther apart.

Presently Ben Greenway came hurrying to the side of the merchantman, dragging its captain by the hand.

“Master Bonnet!  Master Bonnet!” he cried; “this is your old friend, Abner Marchand, o’ our town; an’ this is his good ship the Amanda.  I knew her when I first caught sight o’ her figure-head, havin’ seen it so often at her pier at Bridgetown.  An’ so, now that ye know wha it is that ye hae inadvertently captured, ye may ca’ off your men an’ bid them sheathe their frightful cutlasses.”