ships which made the night as clear as day they lay down and rested.
And in the morning they began again.

"The work," the admiral said, "is not done yet. It is now to be
completed."

Back went, therefore, the fireships and attenders--this time it was
the turn of the transports.

"Hotter this than yesterday," called out Lord Danby to St. Georges
from one boat to the other, as, propelled by hundreds of oars, all
swept in toward the transports. His lordship's face was raw and
bleeding now, for on the previous day he had burned and nearly blinded
himself by blowing up tow and oakum to set on fire a vessel which he
and his men were engaged in destroying. "Hotter now. See, there are
some soldiers in the transport, and the forts on shore are firing on
us. On, on, my men!" and he directed those under his charge to one
transport, while St. Georges did the same as he selected another.

There were more than a dozen of those transports, and against them
went the two hundred boats, Rooke in chief command. As they neared the
great vessels, however, on that bright May morning, they found that
the work of last night had only to be repeated. They poured into the
ships from the starboard side, the French poured out on the larboard;
those who could not escape were slaughtered where they stood. And if
to St. Georges any further impetus was needed--though none was, for
his blood was up now to boiling heat and France was the most hated
word he knew--it was given him as he approached the vessel he meant to
board; for, from it, out of a stern port, there glared a pair of eyes
in a ghastly face--a face that looked as though transfixed with
horror!--the eyes and face of De Roquemaure! With a cry that made the
rowers before him think he had been struck by a bullet, so harsh and
bitter it was, he steered the barge alongside the vessel; in a moment
he had clambered on the deck, followed by man after man; had cut down
a French soldier who opposed him, and was seeking his way toward the
cabin where the other was.

"There is an officer below," he muttered hoarsely to those who
followed him. "He is mine--remember, mine--none others. My hand alone
must have his life, my sword alone take it. Remember!"

As his followers scattered--some to slay the few remaining on board
who had not escaped, some to rush forward and ignite the fore part of
the transport, others to fire the great guns laid toward the shore,
and still others to find and burst open