risk probably increased the immediate possession of qualities so
important in battle. His carronades were loaded to their muzzles with
bags of bullets, and he beckoned to the best seaman of his party to take
one of the matches, while he used the other himself, each holding a
monkey's-tail in one hand, in readiness to train the light gun, as
circumstances required. The pieces had been depressed by Ithuel himself,
in the midst of the fray, and nothing remained but to wait the moment
for using them.

This moment was now near. The object of the English was to land on the
principal islet, and to carry the ruin by storm. In order to do this,
all the boats of their centre converged in their courses to the same
point; and the smoke being driven off by each concussion of the guns, a
dark cluster of the enemy diverged from the ragged outline of the vapor,
within fifty yards of the intended point of landing. Ithuel and his
companion were ready. Together they sighted, and together they fired.
This unexpected discharge from a quarter that had been so comparatively
silent, surprised both friends and foes, and it drove a fresh mantle of
smoke momentarily athwart the rock and the open space in its front.

A cry arose from the dense shroud of battle that differed from the
shouts of success and courage. Physical agony had extorted shrieks from
the stoutest hearts, and even the French in the ruins paused to look for
the next act of the desperate drama. Raoul seized the opportunity to
prepare for the expected hand-to-hand struggle; but it was unnecessary.
The cessation in the firing was common in both parties, and it gave the
vapor a minute in which to lift the curtain from the water.

When the late obstacle was raised high enough to admit of a view, the
result became evident. All the English boats but one had scattered, and
were pulling swiftly, in different directions, from the scene of
slaughter. By taking this course, they diverted and divided the fire of
the enemies; an expedient of which it would have been happier had they
bethought them earlier. The remaining boat was a cutter of the
Terpsichore. It had received the weight of canister from Ithuel's own
gun, and of sixteen men it had contained when it left the frigate's
side, but two escaped. These fellows had thrown themselves into the sea,
and were picked up by passing boats. The cutter itself came drifting
slowly in toward the rock, announcing the nature of its fearful cargo by