was put
to starboard, by which he was able to fire his hitherto disengaged
starboard broadside. It had, however, the effect of bringing his head
round, and now once more he stood towards the land, while the "Scorpion"
ran on in an opposite direction. It was but for a minute, she also
quickly came about and ranged up on the enemy's weather beam, pouring in
the whole of her larboard broadside.

As the smoke cleared away, the Frenchman was seen with her foremast and
main-top-mast gone, while the "Scorpion" did not appear to have lost a
spar.

"Hurrah, my brave Ronald! the day is yours," shouted Rolf. "It is but a
matter of time."

Still the Frenchman fired on, but the wreck of his masts seemed to
impede the working of his foremost guns. It appeared as if the
"Scorpion" was about again to pass ahead, when the two ships met, and
lay locked together in a deadly embrace. The guns continued to roar as
before, and clouds of smoke enveloped the combatants. It was a period
of awful suspense--no one on the platform spoke. The firing ceased; the
canopy of smoke disappeared. The two flags of England and France flew
out as before from the peaks of the two ships.

"Morton has boarded the Frenchman," cried Lord Claymore at length. "No
doubt now as to the result. The Frenchmen fight bravely though. At
them again, my boys! Hurrah!--hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!" shouted Rolf.
"Down comes the Frenchmen's flag."

The fight was over, the "Scorpion" was the victor.

The two ships rapidly approached, steering for the west end of Eastling
Island, and when at the entrance of the sound, and not far from the
castle, they both came to an anchor. A boat was seen to be lowered from
the "Scorpion," and with rapid strokes to approach the castle. With
what eagerness did Edda watch her till she could distinguish the people
on board. She uttered a cry of joy as she saw Ronald himself steering
the boat. At the same time she perceived a person stretched at his
length in the stern sheets. Poor Donna Julia almost fainted with alarm
lest Glover should be the wounded man. Together they hurried down to
the landing-place, where the rest of the party had already gone.

Where all this time was Hilda? She, too, had witnessed the fight. She
had seen the desperate struggle, the flag of France hauled down, the
ships brought to an anchor, and a wounded officer lowered into the boat.
A vague, yet overpowering dread had seized her. She attempted to