rose to
the surface, as he soon did, he was out of danger from their shot.

"O dear!" cried he, "I shan't ever get ashore; I never could swim
much."

The waves threw him against the plank.

"O! a shark! a shark!" shouted John, "now don't;" and he grasped hold
of the plank in a frenzy of fear. He soon discovered the friendly aid
it would afford him, and held on to it with the tenacity of despair.

In less than half an hour the Raker came up. John was noticed from its
deck, and a brawny tar seizing a rope and taking two or three turns of
it round his left arm sprang overboard to rescue the half unconscious
cockney.

As the sailor seized him, John, supposing it to be a shark, uttered a
loud cry and lost all sensation. In this condition he was hauled up to
the deck of the privateer, where, upon recovering his senses, he found
to his great surprise and joy, that instead of being in the belly of
some voracious fish, like Jonah of old, he was in safety, and
surrounded by the crew of his former vessel, the Betty Allen,
including his master.

The poor fellow was severely wounded by a pistol shot, in the arm, but
regardless of this he was wild in his demonstrations of joy,
especially when told that his young mistress had also escaped.

Captain Greene found that he had gained little, if any, upon the
pirate during the night, and became convinced that he must again
commence firing upon her, trusting to some lucky ball to carry away a
spar, or failing, to allow the villains to escape the punishment they
so richly deserved, not only for their inhuman treatment of the crew
of the Betsy Allen, but doubtless for numerous other crimes committed
upon the seas, as savage in their conception, and more successful in
their execution.

The long gun was again uncovered, and a shot dispatched from its huge
portals after the pirate brig. The first ball fired fell short of the
brig, striking the water directly in its wake, and ricochetting again
threw up the water beyond it.

A succeeding ball, however, did some execution, crashing through her
top-gallant forecastle, but without in any degree lessening her speed.
As every fire from the Raker lessened her speed, Capt. Greene became
exceedingly anxious that no balls should be thrown away, and commanded
Lieut. Morris to point the gun, having more confidence in his skill
than in that of the gunner. The young officer aimed the gun carefully,
and as it was fired three cheers arose from his