hen day broke we
could see nothing of the rest. We were lying floundering there in the
trough of the sea, with nothing left but a storm-jib to keep her head
straight, and all hands at the pumps; for in working she had opened her
old seams, and leaked like a basket. Well, we cut away the wreck of the
mast, and we threw twelve of our guns over,--short eighteens they were,
and all heavy metal,--and that lightened her a bit, and we began to have
hopes of weathering out the gale, when the word was passed of a strange
sail to windward.

"We looked, and there saw a great vessel looming, as large as a
three-decker, coming down towards us with close-reefed topsails, but
going through the water like a swordfish. At first we hoped it was one
of our own; but that hope did not last long, for as she neared us we
saw floating from the peak that confounded flag that never boded us good
fortune. She was an English eighty-gun ship; the 'Blanche' they called
her. _Ventrebleu!_ I didn't know how they ever got so handsome a model;
but, I learned after, she was a French ship, and built at Toulon,--for
you see, Comrades, they never had such craft as ours. Well, down they
came, as if they were about to come right over us, and never once made
a signal, nor took any notice of us whatever, till quite close; when
a fellow from the poop-deck shouted out in French,--bad enough it was,
too,--desiring us to keep close till the sea went down a bit, and then
to send a boat to them. _Sacristi!_there was no more about it than that;
and they made a prize of us at once.

"But our captain was not one of that mould, and he answered by beating
to quarters; and just as the 'Blanche' swept past, up flew our ports,
and eight carronades threw in a fire of grape along her deck that made
them dance to the music. _Diable!_ the fun was short, though. Round she
came in stays like a pinnace, down helm, and passed us again; when, as
if her sides slit open, forty guns flashed forth their flame, and sent
us a broadside that made the craft tremble again, and left our deck one
mass of dead and wounded. There was no help for it now. The clear
water came gushing up the hatchways from many a shothole; the craft was
settling fast, and so we hauled down the ensign and made the signal of
distress. The answer was, 'Keep her afloat if you can.' But, faith, our
fellows didn't care much to save a prize for the English, and they would
n't lend a hand to the pumps, but crossed their ar