oned the starting of a royal sheet, took the
sails of the corvette; and her wounded foremast, laden with men in the
lee-rigging, unable to bear the pressure, fell over the side, carrying with
it the maintop-mast and most of the crew who had been standing in the
rigging, and leaving the corvette an encumbered wreck. A loud shout from
the forecastle of the _Windsor Castle_ announced that the English seamen
were but too well aware of their desperate situation, and that they hailed
the misfortune of the Frenchmen as their deliverance.

"Now, my lads, be smart," cried Newton, as he sprang aft to the wheel, and
put up the helm; "man the flying jib-halyards (the jib was under the
forefoot); let go the maintop bowling; square the main-yard. That will do;
she's paying off. Man your guns; half-a-dozen broadsides, and it's all our
own."

The sun had disappeared below the horizon, and the shades of evening had
set in, before this manoeuvre had been accomplished. Several broadsides
were poured into the corvette, which had the desired effect of crippling
her still more, and her encumbered condition prevented any return. At last
the night hid both vessels from each other; and the breeze freshening fast,
it was necessary that the remaining masts of the _Windsor Castle_ should be
properly secured. The guns were therefore abandoned; and during the time
the seamen were employed in knotting the rigging and bending the spare
sails, Newton consulted with his brother officers, who were unanimous in
agreeing that all had been done that could be expected, and that to wait
till the ensuing day, when the corvette would have repaired her damages,
would be attended with a risk of capture, which the valuable property
entrusted to their charge would never authorise. It was not until past
midnight that the _Windsor Castle_ was in a condition to make sail; but
long before this, Newton had contrived to leave the deck for a few minutes
to communicate with Isabel. With most of the particulars, and with the
death of Captain Oughton, she had already been made acquainted; and if
there could be any reward to Newton for his gallantry and his prudence,
more coveted than another, it was the affectionate greeting with which he
was welcomed and congratulated by Isabel, her eyes beaming with tears of
delight as they glanced from his face, and were shrouded on the deck.

Love and murder make a pretty mixture, although as antithetical as the
sweet and acid in punch,