moment, a loud huzza was heard in the rear,
led by a voice which I recognised as that of Jonathan Johnson, and on he
came at the head of some twenty bluejackets, flourishing their cutlasses
like a body of Highlanders, and shouting at the top of their voices.
This timely support encouraged our men, and charging at the same moment,
we drove the enemy headlong before us.

I had picked up a musket, and charged with the rest, and was carried by
my ardour, or from not knowing exactly what I was about, ahead of my
companions. I felt excited and highly delighted. The Frenchmen,
however, as they retreated, faced about every now and then, and fired.
As I was cheering lustily, a shot struck me, and I fell. I thought no
one had noticed me, as I heard Lieutenant Fig give the order to retreat.
The enemy at the same moment halted, and encouraged by the arrival of
another officer, they again came on. It seemed all up with me, but my
faithful follower, Toby Bluff, had seen me fall, and, springing forward,
he threw himself in front of me, shouting--

"If any on you Johnny Crapeaus dares to hurt the young measter, now he's
down, I'll have the life out of you!"

Struck by Toby's bravery, the Frenchmen for a moment hung back, but they
were again coming on, and would soon have overpowered him, when, on
looking up, I saw Mr Johnson stooping over me. In a moment he had
lifted me, as if I had been a baby, on his left arm, and, telling Toby
to run, with his cutlass in his right hand, he kept the Frenchmen who
pressed on him at bay.

Thus fighting and retreating we reached the boats, and one of them
having brought her bow-gun to bear on the enemy, loaded with grape, kept
them at a respectable distance, while the rest of us embarked. They did
not, indeed, approach the shore till we were fairly off, and though they
peppered us with musketry, only one or two men were slightly hurt.
However, altogether our expedition had been more disastrous than any in
which I had ever been engaged.

With heavy hearts we pulled on board. Mr Johnson, with the gentleness
of a woman, bound up my wound. Poor Grey lifted up his head as he saw
me placed by his side in the stern-sheets, and said--

"What, Merry, are you hurt too? There will be no need of shamming this
time, to deceive Macquoid."

"I am afraid not," I answered faintly. "But still I hope that we may
live to fight the Frenchmen another day."

"No fear of that, young gentlemen," said Mr Joh