Jack
sprang forward to assist him, but just at that instant the men who were
appointed to carry the wounded below, lifted him off the deck, and bore
him from his sight.

The decks now presented a very different scene to that which they did a
short hour ago. Fore and aft they were covered with blood, and in many
places they were blackened and torn up by the shot which had ploughed
its way across them. The beams and stanchions in every direction were
shattered and broken, and the whole ship showed the severity of the
action in which she had been engaged.

"We may be in a bad state enough," Jack heard an old seaman say, "but if
you were to go on board the enemy, you would see matters ten times
worse. Their decks, depend upon it, are slippery with gore all over,
and for one man we have lost, they have lost five."

There was little time, however, for talking. The officers were shouting
here and there, giving their directions, and the men were springing
aloft to obey them, or running wherever they were summoned. In a short
time the ropes were knotted, the yards braced up, the damage done to the
poop partially repaired, and the "Weymouth" again stood towards her
opponent. As she approached she was received with a hot fire, which she
returned with interest, while the big guns once more with loud roars
sent forth their shot. The soldiers and small-arm men rattled away with
their musketry, and the swivels, culverins, and other small guns, in
rapid succession added to the uproar by their sharper reports. Bullets,
round-shot, and langrage were flying thickly around.

"Depress your guns and fire at her hull!" cried the captain, seeing the
effect that had already been produced on the enemy.

As the Frenchmen's fire grew slacker, that of the English became more
and more brisk. Scarcely had a gun been discharged when it was again
hauled in and once more sent forth its deadly missile into the hull of
the enemy. Just as the action re-commenced, the enemy's main-mast went
by the board. A loud shout burst from the throats of the British
seamen. Scarcely had it died away when the mizen-mast followed; and now
the stout ship was seen to be heeling over. A cry ran along the decks,
"She's sinking, she's sinking!" Still her guns continued to send forth
her shot, though with far less frequency than at first. Another and
another broadside was fired into her; and now it became evident that
there was truth in the belief that she