ons, when Peregrine, cocking his pistol, and presenting,
counterfeited his father's voice, bidding Trunnion take care of his
remaining eye.

The commodore took his advice, being unwilling to hazard his daylight,
and very deliberately opposed the patched side of his face to the muzzle
of his antagonist's piece, desiring him to do his duty without farther
jaw. The young man accordingly fired; and the distance being small,
the wad of his pistol took place with a smart stroke on the forehead of
Trunnion. Mistaking it for a ball, which he thought lodged in his brain,
spurred up his steed in a state of desperation towards his antagonist,
and holding his piece within two yards of his body, let it off, without
any regard to the laws of battle. Surprised and enraged to see it had
made no impression, he halloed, in a terrible tone, "O! d-ye, you have
your netting stuffed, I see;" and advancing, he discharged his second
pistol so near his godson's head, that had he not been defended by his
great coat, the powder must have scorched his face. Having thus thrown
away his fire, he remained at the mercy of Peregrine, who clapping the
piece he had in reserve to his head, commanded him to beg his life,
and ask pardon for his presumption. The commodore made no reply to this
imperious injunction; but, dropping his pistol, and unsheathing his
broad-sword in an instant, attacked our hero with such incredible
agility, that if he had not made shift to ward off the stroke with his
piece, the adventure, in all likelihood, would have turned out a very
tragical joke.

Peregrine finding it would be in vain for him to think of drawing his
weapon, or of standing on the defensive against this furious aggressor,
very fairly clapped spurs to his nag, and sought his safety in flight.
Trunnion pursued him with infinite eagerness; and his steed being the
better of the two, would have overtaken the fugitive to his peril, had
he not been unfortunately encountered by the boughs of a tree, that
happened to stand on his blind side, and incommoded him so much, that
he was fain to quit his sword, and lay hold on the mane in order to
maintain his seat. Perry perceiving his disaster, wheeled about, and now
finding leisure to produce his weapon, returned upon his disarmed foe,
brandishing his Ferrara, threatening to make him shorter by the head
if he would not immediately crave quarter and yield. There was nothing
farther from the intention of the old gentleman tha