tting
the augury, and everything else, in the excitement of the moment. In a
twinkling the square foresail--topgallant--royal and studding-sail
haulyards, were let go on board the schooner, as if to round to. "Rake
him, sir, or give him the stern. He has not surrendered. I know their
game. Give him your broadside, sir, or he is off to windward of you,
like a shot. No, no, we have him now; heave to Mr. Splinter, heave
to!" We did so, and that so suddenly, that the studding sail booms
snapped like pipe shanks short off by the irons. Notwithstanding, we
had shot two hundred yards to the leeward, before we could lay our
maintopsail to the mast. I ran to windward. The schooner's yards and
rigging were now black with men, clustering like bees swarming, her
square sails were being close furled, her fore and aft sails set, and
away she was, dead to windward of us. "So much for undervaluing our
American friends," grumbled Mr. Splinter.

We made all sail in chase, blazing away to little purpose; we had no
chance on a bowline, and when our 'Amigo' had satisfied himself of his
superiority by one or two short tacks, he deliberately took a reef in
his mainsail, hauled down his flying jib and gaff-topsail, triced up
the bunt of his foresail, and fired his long thirty-two at us. The
shot came in our third aftermost port on the starboard side, and
dismounted the carronade, smashing the slide and wounding three men.
The second missed, and as it was madness to remain to be peppered,
probably winged, whilst every one of ours fell short, we reluctantly
kept away on our course, having the gratification of hearing a clear
well blown bugle on board the schooner play up "Yankee Doodle." As the
brig fell off, our long gun was run out to have a parting crack at
her, when the third and last shot from the schooner struck the sill of
the midship port, and made the white splinters fly from the solid oak
like bright silver sparks in the moonlight. A sharp, piercing cry rose
in the air--my soul identified that death-shriek with the voice that I
had heard, and I saw the man who was standing with the lanyard of the
lock in his hand drop heavily across the breech, and discharge the gun
in his fall. Thereupon a blood-red glare shot up in the cold blue sky,
as if a volcano had burst forth from beneath the mighty deep, followed
by a roar, and a scattering crash, and a mingling of unearthly cries
and groans, and a concussion of the air and the water as if our