one
effective discharge. Ithuel succeeded the best He repaid McBean in his
own coin, sending a grist of bullets into the bows of his launch, which
admonished that prudent officer of the necessity of shearing toward the
islet of the ruins. Pintard's assailant was brought up by the barrier in
front, and turned aside also. Then, in the midst of a cloud of smoke,
shouts, curses, cries, shrieks, orders, and the roar of guns, all the
English precipitated themselves in a body on the principal post, and
became the masters of the battery in the twinkling of an eye.

CHAPTER XXIX.

"Thus doth the ever-changing course of thing!
Run a perpetual circle, ever turning;
And that same day, that highest glory brings,
Brings us to the point of back returning."

DANIEL,

In scenes like that just related, it is not easy to collect details. All
that was ever known, beyond the impetuous manner of the assault in which
the ruins were carried, was in the dire result. Half the French on the
islet were weltering in their blood, and the surface of the rocks was
well sprinkled with enemies who had not been more fortunate. It had been
a desperate onset, in which mortification increased natural intrepidity,
which had been nobly resisted, but in which numbers had necessarily
prevailed. Among the English slain was Sir Frederick Dashwood himself;
he lay about a yard from his own gig, with a ball directly through his
head. Griffin was seriously hurt, but Clinch was untouched, on the low
rampart, waving an English Jack--after having hauled down a similar
emblem of the French. His boat had first touched the rock, her crew had
first reached the ruin, and, of all in her, he himself had taken the
lead. Desperately had he contended for Jane and a commission, and this
time Providence appeared to smile on his efforts. As for Raoul, he lay
in front of his own rampart, having rushed forward to meet the party of
Clinch, and had actually crossed swords with his late prisoner, when a
musket-ball, fired by the hands of McBean, traversed his body.

"_Courage, mes braves! en avant!_" he was heard to shout, as he leaped
the low wall to repel the invaders--and when he lay on the hard rock,
his voice was still strong enough to make itself heard,
crying--"_Lieutenant--nom de Dieu--sauve mon Feu-Follet!"_

It is probable that Pintard would not have stirred, even at this order,
had not the English ships been seen, at that instant, coming ro