outed, through his trumpet, in a voice that rose commanding and clear
amid the roar of the combat.

Released forward, the stern of the Coquette yielded to the pressure of her
enemy, whose sails were all drawing, and she was soon in a position to
enable her head-yards to be braced sharp aback, in a direction opposite to
the one in which she had so lately lain. The whole broadside was then
delivered into the stern of la Fontange, the last grapnel was released and
the ships separated.

The single spirit which presided over the evolutions and exertions of the
Coquette, still governed her movements. The sails were trimmed, the ship
was got in command, and, before the vessels had been asunder five minutes,
the duty of the vessel was in its ordinary active but noiseless train.

Nimble top-men were on the yards, and broad folds of fresh canvas were
flapping in the breeze, as the new sails were bent and set. Ropes were
spliced, or supplied by new rigging, the spars examined, and in fine all
that watchfulness and sedulous care were observed, which are so necessary
to the efficiency and safety of a ship. Every spar was secured, the pumps
were sounded, and the vessel held on her way, as steadily as if she had
never fired nor received a shot.

On the other hand, la Fontange betrayed the indecision and confusion of a
worsted ship. Her torn canvas was blowing about in disorder, many
important ropes beat against her masts unheeded, and the vessel itself
drove before the breeze in the helplessness of a wreck. For several
minutes, there seemed no controlling mind in the fabric; and when, after
so much distance was lost as to give her enemy all the advantage of the
wind, a tardy attempt was made to bring the ship up again, the tallest and
most important of her masts was seen tottering, until it finally fell,
with all its hamper, into the sea.

Notwithstanding the absence of so many of his people, success would now
have been certain, had not the presence of the stranger compelled Ludlow
to abandon his advantage. But the consequences to his own vessel were too
sure, to allow of more than a natural and manly regret that so favorable
an occasion should escape him. The character of the stranger could no
longer be mistaken. The eve of every seaman in the Coquette as well
understood the country of the high and narrow-headed sails, the tall taper
masts and short yards of the frigate whose hull was now distinctly
visible, as a landsman recogni