ect, just within the starboard
jib-boom-guy. There comes the Frenchman in his pride, and 'twill be lucky
for him who lives to count the slain, or to boast of his deeds!"

The master descended from the forecastle, and passed among the crew, with
every thought recalled from its excursive flight to the duty of the
moment. Ludlow continued on the forecastle, alone. There was a low,
whispering sound in the ship, like that which is made by the murmuring of
a rising breeze,--and then all was still as death.

The Coquette lay with her head to seaward, the stern necessarily pointing
towards the land. The distance from the latter was less than a mile, and
the direction of the ship's hull was caused by the course of the heavy
ground-swell, which incessantly rolled the waters on the wide beach of the
island. The head-gear lay in the way of the dim _view_, and Ludlow walked
out on the bowsprit, in order that nothing should lie between him and the
part of the ocean he wished to study. Here he had not stood a minute, when
he caught, first a confused and then a more distinct glimpse of a line of
dark objects, advancing slowly towards the ship. Assured of the position
of his enemy, he returned in-board, and descended among his people. In
another moment he was again on the forecastle, across which he paced
leisurely, and, to all appearance, with the calmness of one who enjoyed
the refreshing coolness of the night.

At the distance of a hundred fathoms, the dusky line of boats paused, and
began to change its order. At that instant the first puffs of the land
breeze were felt, and the stern of the ship made a gentle inclination
seaward.

"Help her with the mizen! Let fall the top-sail!" whispered the young
captain to those beneath him. Ere another moment, the flap of the loosened
sail was heard. The ship swung still further, and Ludlow stamped on the
deck.

A round fiery light shot beyond the martingale, and the smoke rolled along
the sea, outstripped by a crowd of missiles that were hissing across the
water. A shout, in which command was mingled with shrieks, followed, and
then oar-blades were heard dashing the water aside, regardless of
concealment. The ocean lighted, and three or four boat-guns returned the
fatal discharge from the ship. Ludlow had not spoken. Still alone on his
elevated and exposed post, he watched the effects of both fires, with a
commander's coolness. The smile that struggled about his compressed mouth,
when the