termost gun on the British main-deck. Its flames on the instant
smote the Frenchman's head-rails to splinters, and destroyed the
gammoning of her bowsprit. Gun after gun of the two ships was brought
in succession to bear; but in this close and deadly contest the
_Phoenix_ had the advantage. Her guns were lighter, her men better
drilled, and their fierce energy overbore the Frenchmen. Presently the
_Didon_, with her foremast tottering, her maintopmast gone, her decks a
blood-stained wreck, passed out of gunshot ahead.

In the tangle between the two ships the fly of the British white ensign
at the gaff end dropped on the _Didon's_ forecastle. The Frenchmen
tore it off, and, as the ships moved apart, they waved it triumphantly
from the _Didon's_ stern. All the colours of the _Phoenix_, indeed, in
one way or another had vanished, and the only response the exasperated
British tars could make to the insult of the _Didon_ was to immediately
lash a boat's ensign to the larboard, and the Union Jack to the
starboard end of their cross jack yard-arm.

The wind had dropped; both ships were now lying a in a semi-wrecked
condition out of gunshot of each other, and it became a question of
which could soonest repair damages and get into fighting condition
again. Both ships, as it happened, had begun the fight with nearly all
canvas spread, and from their splintered masts the sails now hung one
wild network of rags. In each ship a desperate race to effect repairs
began. On the Frenchman's decks arose a babel of sounds, the shouts of
officers, the tumult of the men's voices. The British, on the other
hand, worked in grim and orderly silence, with no sound but the cool,
stern orders of the officers. In such a race the British were sure to
win, and fortune aided them. The two ships were rolling heavily in the
windless swell, and a little before noon the British saw the wounded
foremast of their enemy suddenly snap and tumble, with all its canvas,
upon the unfortunate _Didon's_ decks. This gave new and exultant
vigour to the British. Shot-holes were plugged, dismounted guns
refitted, fresh braces rove, the torn rigging spliced, new canvas
spread. The wind blew softly again, and a little after noon the
_Phoenix_, sorely battered indeed, but in fighting trim, with guns
loaded, and the survivors of her crew at quarters, bore down on the
_Didon_, and took her position on that ship's weather bow. Just when
the word "Fire!" was a